


His Brother's Keeper

by ilikeblue



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), a game of thrones - Fandom, game of thrones
Genre: As deep as a Hallmark holiday movie, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Cersei is a bitch, Christmas Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Fluff without Plot, Not as screwed up Jaime Lannister, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Romantic Fluff, Soft Jaime Lannister, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tyrion and Brienne buddy comedy, Tywin wants a strong daughter in law and lots of grand babies, You thought your family had screwed up holiday dinners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21584851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikeblue/pseuds/ilikeblue
Summary: Tyrion Lannister was not looking for a protector, but he found one in Brienne Tarth.  She is his roommate, confidant, best friend and the perfect match for his heartbroken older brother.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister & Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 226
Kudos: 685





	1. My Knight In Shining Armor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ro_Nordmann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro_Nordmann/gifts), [NightReaderEnigma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightReaderEnigma/gifts).



> Thank you to Ro_Nordmann for again making art that is much too nice for my silly ramblings. 
> 
> If you are looking for a thoughtful character study, this is not the fiction for you. It's about as deep as a Hallmark Christmas movie, as is the intention. Happy Holidays all my fellow Jaime X Brienne shippers. A gift for Ro and M. 
> 
> Thank you to NightReaderEnigma for volunteering (sort of) to edit for me. Thanks to Ro, Jailynn, Meriwyn and Sari for pre-reading.

* * *

It was still a bit of a mystery how she ended up with Tyrion Lannister as her best friend.

The chronological events were clear enough, they had been living as roommates for 3 years now. But the nitty gritty details eluded her, exactly when and why she had come to think of this boisterous, lewd, brilliant, annoying and occasionally repulsive person as the one—other than her father— who meant the most.

She had seen him at the first grad school mixer, Tyrion was a dwarf, and the kind of person that stood out in a crowd despite his diminutive size. Drunk and half naked with a poorly improvised wreath of greenery on his head, he was posing like some small god of debauchery in the lobby fountain when she left.

“Come back legs!”

She barely took note of him yelling as she exited the building, respectably early and way too sober for that kind of shit. First year med school was no joke, she needed to hit the ground running the next morning, especially if she wanted to get into an orthopedic surgery residency. She needed top five in the class, top two if she wanted her choice of programs, and Brienne was used to having her choice of things, at least those that her drive and determination could grant her.

She had rented a small apartment in the suburbs, mostly because it was cheap and meant accruing less student loan debt, but also because she did not really expect to be part of the social scene, she wasn’t there to make friends. What she had not counted on was the interminable commute, and how that would make getting to and from class each day such a hassle.

Following her first anatomy exam she was reluctantly coaxed by one of her lab partners into meeting them at a bar to celebrate. As she approached she saw Tyrion coming from the other direction, and she almost turned around, not really interested in any more tall jokes. If he noticed her he didn’t say, but she had the misfortune of entering just behind him, aware of the strange picture the two of them must paint.

“Didn’t know the gods damn circus was in town.”

A red head at the bar had turned to see them enter and was whooping it up with his friends, pointing at Tyrion with a nasty, judging smile. He apparently thought that comment brilliant, as he was busy giving high fives to the other drunk idiots standing with him.

That was when she saw it. The subtle shift in Tyrion’s face, his smile still intact, the muscles really not changing position enough that it should have been noticeable. Maybe it came from a lifetime of being on the receiving end of similar jokes, but she saw the shutters go down behind his eyes, the light dimming just a bit as he swallowed one more gulp of pain.

She wondered if this was what she looked like every time someone told her how plain her face was, how unpleasantly wide her shoulders and thick her waist. How no one would ever want a big burly woman like her. Maybe she felt rather than saw how much the comment hurt him, how a lifetime of comments had beat him down and made him feel smaller than his already tiny frame.

“We have room for one more performer.” She was speaking before thinking, rushing to the defense of this little man she hardly knew.

“We haven’t been able to locate a dickless man to this point, but you might be a contender.”

His already ruddy complexion turned an ugly shade of violet, and he pushed away from the bar to face her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that I was insulting your boyfriend. Here let me make it up to you.” He took a rose out of the bud vase on the bar and turned to hand it to her, before dropping it at her feet.

“Ugly sow…how do you stare into that face every morning without vomiting?”

Something in Brienne snapped. She worked every day of her life to get where she was. Perfect GPA, college on a swimming scholarship, just enough community service hours squeezed in to make her medical school application perfect. How dare this ass try and make her feel small.

She didn’t feel her fist clench, didn’t notice that way her arm cocked back and all those strong shoulder muscles tightened before exploding into motion like a push from the starting block. Her hand shot through the air with a whizzing sound before connecting with his nose. There was a horrible crack as his face erupted in blood. For just a minute she felt disassociated from her own body, looking down at her split knuckles and the red pouring down the man’s face, the only thought she could grab hold of being how badly the color clashed with his hair. He crumpled to the floor, friends crowding around as Brienne stood paralyzed, seeing the future she had so meticulously plotted fading with one stupid choice.

“Come on.” Tyrion was tugging at the back pocket of her jeans, pulling her toward the door.

“I can’t just leave, I have to…there will be cops. He’ll charge me with assault.” She was starting to panic, tears blurring her vision and her throat tightening, barely able to make words.

“No, there will be a call to my family lawyer and a fairly hefty amount of gold paid in exchange for his permanent silence regarding this ugly misunderstanding.” Tyrion had grabbed her hand, was pulling her out into the street and in the direction from which he approached earlier.

“Followed shortly after by a call from my father wanting the details of how I royally fucked up this time.”

Brienne pulled them both to a stop, leaning down to meet his eyes. “I can’t let you do that. It was my fault…my responsibility…”

“Nonsense.” Tyrion reached up and stroked her cheek, the tenderness of the gesture making her breath catch. He had a beautiful smile, she had never noticed it until now. Nothing like the drunken smirk she expected from him.

“I can’t let them arrest my knight in shining armor can I?”

“Tyrion…Tyrion Lannister.” He extended his hand in greeting, and she took it, noting how poorly it fit in her own. “Brienne Tarth.” She shook his hand with too much vigor, the adrenaline finally catching up, she found herself trembling.

“You need a drink. Anything broken?” He pointed to her bleeding knuckles, and she flexed them, everything moving but sore. Shaking her head ‘No’, he took her good hand and started leading her down the street, back to his very nice downtown apartment.

That was three years ago, and Brienne had never completely left the apartment since. Tyrion kept good to his word, the incident just disappeared, although she decided never to go back to that particular bar. He was a first year law student, had started the semester with a roommate named Bronn who quit after a few weeks—something about dating the daughter of the dean of admissions. He had a nice bedroom available with it’s own bath and really didn’t want that much rent. His father owned the building anyway.

Tyrion drank to excess, liked to lounge around in only his boxers, and had questionable taste in women. After several mortifying encounters, Brienne mounted a large dry erase calendar on the wall by the kitchen, and insisted that he mark the days when he had “dates” so that she could be absent until late in the evening. She couldn’t help but laugh when she came home to find big pink hearts drawn on several squares.

He was horrible at laundry, and she turned a glorious shade of red when she realized he was folding the basket of underwear she unthinkingly sat on the floor after finding the washing machine busy, now mixed together with his.

She started making him smoothies with extra kale and blueberries, scolding that his liver needed all the extra antioxidants it could scavenge. He in turn made her drink beer whenever they watched basketball together, claiming some sort of affront to the Seven to sip tea during any sporting event.

Jokingly she insisted on one day seeing his face on the side of a bus, advertising his legal advice for accident claims and medical malpractice. He told her that he fully expected to find her on the sidelines of some professional team, soccer most likely, icing down pulled groins.

He rarely spoke of his family. She understood there was conflict between he and his father, something to do with him not wanting to go into the family business—which, best she could tell, involved making money hand over fist—and being a huge disappointment all around. The real hatred he reserved for his step sister Cersei. When she tried to pin him down as to why, he simply said that she was horrible, “a monster in pretty skin,” who had done her damnedest to irreparably screw up his brother Jaime.

Jaime he loved, adored actually.

His eyes went soft talking about the older sibling who had saved him from the wrath of his father and, usually, protected him from his wretched sister. It was not as if he thought his older brother could do no wrong. Quite the opposite, he seemed to relish in telling Brienne all his faults in detail How he was beautiful but quite arrogant. How he wasn’t as smart as Tyrion and did not work hard enough at school. How he was really very self conscious and needy under all the bluster, and craved attention and affection as if he were starved for it.

It was only after much coaxing, and liberal amounts of cheap booze, that he weakened and dusted off all of the skeletons in the family closet. Cersei was Joanna’s daughter by her first husband, a creep who knocked her up in college, the ink barely dry on their marriage license when he left her destitute with a baby on the way.

In generous moments Tyrion blamed his sister’s mercenary approach to men on the father who didn’t bother to stay around until she was born, but mostly he thought her inherently despicable.

Jaime was Tywin’s son by his deceased first wife, both children three when their parents married. His brother worshiped Joanna, finding in her the mother he never knew, and his big puppy dog heart tumbled head over teacups at the mere idea of a sister, insisting they call each other twin as they were almost the exact age.

Cersei, always the more precocious of the two, took possession of Jaime like the family pet, leading him around, telling him what to do and how to think. When Joanna died in labor with Tyrion, Cersei’s grip on his brother tightened. Having lost the only parent he ever loved, Jaime felt abandoned and adrift, and his step sister swept in, smelling blood in the water. By fifteen she had seduced him, sneaking off to fool around and leaving Tyrion to watch for their father.

Tyrion rolled his eyes as he spoke of Jaime, admiration and frustration mixing in equal parts. Brienne wondered what it would be like to love with that intensity, to fling your heart into the void with no fear of it never returning. People like she and Tyrion did not have that luxury, they would always be life’s outcasts.

Of course they were caught—who couldn’t see that coming?—and Jaime was sent to boarding school, all the while thinking that Cersei was the love of his life and he would come back to her after graduation. She had other plans, dating every available social climber she could find, only to marry Robert Baratheon, a loathsome turd of a man who probably started cheating on her long before the nuptials, preferring to spend most of his time half inebriated and ignoring his lovely wife.

Which was fine by Cersei as she fully intended to dig her claws back into Jaime as soon as he came home.

Funny thing happened at boarding school. Jaime grew up, decided to study a bit, learned that he liked art and math and wanted to be an architect. He worked his way through college and took a grunt level position at the largest firm in King’s Landing. His family hated it. Hated the fact that he owed them nothing and could not be controlled. Hated that he, a Lannister, took a job they considered beneath their family’s station. Hated that he seemed to have no interest in women (or men) since his disastrous fallout with Cersei, and if he did date it was kept private, not giving his father the chance to choose a mate for him like the prized stallion that he was.

By the time she and Tyrion finished talking it was three in the morning and Brienne felt that she knew more about Jaime Lannister than a stranger should have the right. She found herself pondering how beautiful, exactly, was he? Tyrion described him as “half a god” and she snorted and asked which half, afraid if she ever met the man she would be unable to look him in the eye, now that she knew where the lower parts of his godlike self had spent adolescence. She questioned whether any man could really be the wonderful and terrible contradiction that Tyrion loved so much.

Three weeks later she was bemoaning the fact that she had her clinical rotation in surgery over the holiday, and to make a good impression had agreed to stay in town and help cover the service. It was one year, one missed dinner with her father, not the end of the world. Tyrion saw the sadness she tried to cover, and smiled mischievously.

“That’s okay Tarth, you can have dinner with the Lannisters.” Brienne crinkled her nose, shaking her head vehemently, until he started pleading.

“Pleeeease B…otherwise I have to face the hoard alone. The food is top notch, and we can get shit faced on really nice wine. I’ll laugh at you turning pink, you’ll make sure I get home alive. What could go wrong?”

Before she knew what had happened she agreed, she would holiday with the Lannisters, gods help her.


	2. I'm bringing the amazon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jaime, please come. I’m bringing…a friend.” 
> 
> Something in the way that Tyrion said the words caught him off guard, a kindness in his voice that rarely manifested, not since childhood.
> 
> “A what? Tyrion you have drinking buddies, not friends, unless you count your amazon roommate.” 
> 
> Silence.
> 
> “I’m bringing the amazon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus round. Since I am unlikely to update for a few days, I decided to post another chapter. Please do not expect a two chapter day, probably ever again. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone that has already started reading this silly little story. Thank you to the same cast of friends who continually amaze me with their patience ( **Sari, Meriwyn, Madelyn, Jailynn and Ro are the best** ). Have a great holiday (or just a great day)!

* * *

Jaime would rather eat nails than attend the Lannister holiday party. He planned on cancelling at the last minute, that way his father could not track him down and pressure him to attend. That was before Tyrion called.

“You going to the annual torture fest?” The brothers had long ago quit describing anything involving the presence of their father or sister in flattering terms, preferring to call it as they saw it.

“No.” Jaime’s voice was flat, no second guessing or remorse over his decision.

“Father thinks that you are.” Tyrion knew this game as well as Jaime did, felt just as acutely the same discomfort that made him lie to his family.

“Well I’m not going to show, but he doesn’t need to know that. I’ve spent the last ten years dodging them as often as possible, and it’s worked out so far.” He could say these things to his little brother, admit that it was easier to stay away than to fight the same battles again and again.

“Jaime, please come. I’m bringing…a friend.” Something in the way that Tyrion said the words caught him off guard, a kindness in his voice that rarely manifested, not since childhood.

“A _what?_ Tyrion you have drinking buddies, not friends, unless you count your amazon roommate.”

_Silence._

“I’m bringing the amazon.”

“No shit, are you two…” Jaime’s voice bubbled with mirth. He had tried to talk his brother into dating his very large roommate on multiple occasions. From his standpoint she was the best thing that had ever happened to Tyrion. He was healthier than he had been in years, happier too.

“No…gods no. There are mountains…and then there are _mountains._ While the idea of being suffocated by her endless legs is not completely unappealing, she is… _in every respect_ …out of my league. Please Jaime…I just want you to meet her.” It was an odd thing to say, but Tyrion was an odd guy. He chalked it up to his brother wanting his two best friends to get along.

“Alright, but you owe me…and don’t expect me to be sober, or pleasant.”

“I’ll expect you to be your usual charming self. Can’t wait to see you.” He hung up with a laugh, leaving Jaime miserable. It was going to be a long holiday.

* * *

It was two in the afternoon on a Sunday, and Jaime was already on his third gin and tonic, lurking by the door and watching for Tyrion to arrive. Just like the imp to show up late, leaving him to fend for himself with Cersei and Tywin.

Not to mention that he was feeling suffocated by his too nice suit and very expensive shoes—both gifts from his sweet sister last year— accompanied by a lovely card saying that she “hoped this helped his wardrobe situation.” Wearing it had been a whim, a kind gesture to pacify his sibling and help smooth out the evening. Jaime had no interest in finery, he quit dressing the part around the same time he fell out of love with Cersei, deciding that he did not care much about being a Lannister after all.

The Uber pulled to the curb, and he watched with fascination as the tallest woman he had ever seen unfolded from the back seat. Short blonde hair immediately tossed in all directions by the winter breeze, she struggled to hold it down while bending to retrieve her purse.

Jaime did not think of himself as a particularly carnal man, at least not when women other than his sister were concerned. But _damn,_ that had to be the nicest backside he had ever seen. Firm and full and perched atop long, muscled legs that went on for miles. She had the audacity to be wearing tight black dress slacks that clung to it _just right_ and—heels? Fuck if she wasn’t wearing three inch black heels that made her seem inhumanly long and sleek and showed off her calves.

_This was not the way he reacted to a stranger._

Turning from the window he discretely adjusted the unwelcome bulge in his designer pants before Tyrion walked in, took one look at Jaime’s aroused state, and burst out laughing. He would never hear the end of it.

Moments later they entered, Tyrion and the big woman arguing over who should pay the driver, his brother emphatic that by the end of the evening she would not only insist he finance the ride home, but would also ask compensation for the hours of life lost. She was smiling and shaking her head, and Jaime liked the way her lips curled at the ends, as if pondering a difficult to contain secret. He wondered what her laugh sounded like, overwhelmed with the image of those thick lips parting, a low, rich sound bubbling out of her broad face. Jaime decided it was his goal to make her laugh at least once, just to satisfy his curiosity.

When Brienne first moved in, Tyrion called her "my ugly giantess". Each time they talked his brother’s feelings toward the wench seemed to deepen, and he substituted kinder words like "oddly proportioned" or "plain". He still referred to her as a giantess, but there was awe in his voice rather than derision. For the last year Tyrion had described Brienne as ‘unique’ and left it there, the term encompassing the woman as a whole, not just her outlandish size.

He agreed with his brother’s assessment, she was intriguing. Wide mouth and swollen lips, too strange to be attractive, yet for some reason he found them near irresistible. Freckles coated her nose and cheeks, trailing across collarbone and shoulders, and he had to pinch his fingers together to keep from touching them, so vibrant against her milk and honey skin he thought they must have texture. Her nose crooked slightly, and there was a silver cast to her pale hair making her brows and lashes nearly invisible.

_And then he noticed her eyes._

Gods she had the most astonishing eyes he had ever seen. In the waning light they were fathomless, rich cobalt blue, a pale rim encircling the irises made them glassy and soft. He imagined they would sparkle in the sunlight, a hint of gold in their depths. What color would they take if tinted with passion? How would it feel to watch them sluggishly blink, drifting closed sleepy and sated beside him?

“Hi…I’m Jaime.” He extended his hand, trying with difficulty to suppress the eagerness in his voice. She looked shocked at the gesture, wary of even this small courtesy, the skin between her brows furrowing.

“Brienne.” Fingers squeezed his with a strength that bordered on uncomfortable, and Jaime felt a tightening in his gut at the sensation.

Her voice was low and musical, a sultry quality to it that was surprisingly dissonant to the woman standing before him. The sound triggered a memory, he had heard it before.

Months ago she answered Tyrion’s phone, quickly explaining that he was suffering from either a GI bug or food poisoning and was in no condition to chat. At the nervous sound of Jaime’s reply she vowed to keep a close eye on his sibling, he would be fine by tomorrow. With a final promise to tell Tyrion he called, she ended their conversation.

Except the connection did not close, in the chaos she laid the phone aside, and Jaime found himself transfixed, listening to a very sexy sounding woman talking softly to his baby brother.

“Tyrion…are you okay? I can get you more soda… juice?” Tyrion mumbled, something about wine and dying slowly, followed by the frantic rustling of blankets and the sound of retching.

“Oh gods…it just doesn’t stop. You sure you won’t go to the ER, they have good drugs…IV fluid?” There was a pause and more grumbling, presumably the stubborn sound of his brother refusing to go.

“Well I’m not leaving… I have a cool cloth, let me wipe…I _know_ you’re _not_ a gods damned child, but it will feel nice on your neck and just…shit I’m worried Tyrion…you’re little and you will dehydrate… _NO_ that was _not_ an excuse to insult you… just shut up and let me help…okay?”

Despite her frustration she never raised her voice, in the end it trailed off quietly, pleading. There was a gentleness to the interaction that was refreshing, breathtaking in its sincerity, and Jaime found himself days later trying to picture the woman attached to that voice. The one who treated his misshapen little brother like a treasure rather than a burden.

Looking at her face now, it all made sense. She and Tyrion were kindred souls, beautiful people trapped in imperfect shells. Except that, at least to Jaime, her appearance was not wanting. In fact, the longer he stared the more interesting she became, an incongruous mix of features that, when viewed individually, were quite appealing. He longed to catalogue each part, to explore every nook and cranny of her fantastically large being.

_How long had he been holding her hand?_

Brienne towered over them both, fingers interlocked with his, head cocked slightly to the side and lips pursed as she tried to figure out what game the Lannister brothers were playing, both gawking at her in the foyer.

Glancing down he could see the gears working behind Tyrion’s narrowed eyes, his brother suddenly raising both brows and grinning wickedly. Jaime felt exposed, the sneaky little bastard knew him too well, could feel his reaction to Brienne already. Seven hells, he had probably expected it all along.

_I just want you to meet her._

Damn.


	3. Blue is definitely your color.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He was sexy._
> 
> There was no way around it, Tyrion’s big brother was the sexiest person she had ever met. Brienne had noticed him as they entered, dark blonde hair perfectly messed, brooding eyes and sharp jaw, a taste of danger in his graceful demeanor as he leaned by the door, waiting. He was one of those men who posed in GQ with designer clothes and no shoes, offering a half finished drink and a come hither look. Tyrion could have warned her properly.
> 
> _Half a god my ass._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to NightReaderEnigma for editing this for me. Thank you to Jailynn, Meriwyn, Sari, and Ro for reading and giving me such helpful feedback. You are all so kind and talented, I am truly blessed with great writer buddies.

It felt like a scene from a daytime drama, one where everyone was beautiful and the maid took care of the kids and set out fresh flowers every day. The decorations were elaborate, tasteful music playing gently in the background, candles lit and table set. She thought of Tyrion raised in this stifling formality, struck with sadness for the imperfect child who must have felt even more wrong when confronted with unrelenting perfection. Looking at her watch for the tenth time, she silently prayed their ride would make a mistake and show up early.

Cersei wandered to the foyer to greet them, and Brienne would have grinned at the way Tyrion’s sister blatantly curled her nose and scrunched her lips at the sight of her, if she were not also a bit afraid of the woman’s wrath. 

She was wearing what Brienne would classify as a cocktail dress to a family gathering, no doubt couture and costing more than her entire wardrobe combined, but _damn_ the woman looked amazing. It was deep green and tight, showing off full breasts and rounded hips. Without a trace of bitterness, Brienne thought if she looked that spectacular in anything, she would never take it off. The color made her already golden skin glow like she had just dusted off the sand from a long vacation, and her eyes sparkle like shards of green glass tumbling in the surf. 

Tyrion’s sister stopped short in front of her and tossed her long blond curls over one shoulder, they bounced jauntily of course, and Brienne bit the inside of her jaw, stifling a laugh at the absurdity of it all. Glancing sideways she saw Jaime Lannister staring at her, his bottom lip fighting the same urge to twist upward, green eyes so similar to his sister’s shimmering with amusement. 

_He finds this just as ludicrous as I do._

The thought was centering, he was raised in this disaster and still found it trying. Cersei extended a petite hand, and smiled a broad insincere smile, before introducing herself. 

“I’m Cersei…and you are?” She said the words as if Brienne had snuck in off the street, it made her hairs stand on end. Suddenly the thought of picking a fight with this horrible person seemed more appealing. 

“Brienne…Brienne Tarth.” Gripping Cersei’s hand more aggressively than necessary she met her gaze head on, watching as the other woman slowly raised an eyebrow, noting the challenge in Brienne’s eyes. 

“Ah yes, Tyrion’s… _special_ friend.” It sounded dirty, the way she twirled the word around in her mouth like a sip of wine. “My sweet brother always had a spot in his heart for those less fortunate.”

“Gods Cersei, she’s renting a room not looking for a sponsor.” Tyrion looked mortified, embarrassment turning his complexion ruddy. Brienne shot him a grin before turning back toward his sister, two could play this game. 

“Well maybe I _am_ looking for a sponsor Tyrion, I understand you lot have more gold than the Seven…Cersei’s breathtaking dress could cover a semester’s tuition at least…what do you say?” She looked down at her friend, reaching out to run fingers through his dark blonde curls, and he guffawed, all the tension draining from the room. 

“I say you will do just fine on your own Lady Brienne.” Pausing to wink before continuing. “Now, where’s that Dornish Red…or did my sweet sister drink it all?” He sauntered off, Cersei close behind, looking offended at the implication. 

“Do you really like the dress?” 

Jaime Lannister’s voice rumbled from just behind her shoulder, startling her with the velvet quality of it, the way it seemed to slide along her back and cause her skin to prickle. 

_He was sexy._

There was no way around it, Tyrion’s big brother was the sexiest person she had ever met. Brienne had noticed him as they entered, dark blonde hair perfectly messed, brooding eyes and sharp jaw, a taste of danger in his graceful demeanor as he leaned by the door, waiting. He was one of those men who posed in GQ with designer clothes and no shoes, offering a half finished drink and a come hither look. Tyrion could have warned her properly.

 _Half a god my ass._

She stared ahead, not bold enough to face those piercing eyes, thoughts of him making the heat gather at the base of her neck.  
_Maybe he won’t notice…_

“You’re blushing…It must have been a lie.” 

There was a smile in the sound now, still sexy but with a playful edge that made it all the more appealing. She kept her back to him, unable to suppress her own grin, wanting to continue the banter and pretend to fit into his world, just for a minute. 

“I wasn’t…they are exquisite, the dress and your sister. I could never wear something like that, but it suits her.”

“Why not?” He sounded genuine, like the thought of her square body in clothes worn for seducing was not ludicrous, as if it was something he might want to see. 

Taking a deep breath she turned, steeling herself to meet his gaze. From a distance he had the same green eyes as his step sister, however up close the similarity faded. Cersei had eyes like emeralds, brilliant and cold, sharp enough to wound when vexed. But Jaime, his eyes were fathomless pools, watery and dark, the color of moss. She could get lost in those eyes, bathe in them, lounge around for days soaking up their heat…

 _She was staring._

Jaime was grinning back at her, looking particularly pleased about something he saw in her face. Her habit was to fall into anger, storm away safe in the assumption that the jest was at her expense, but he did not seem that kind of man. Brienne knew Tyrion’s big brother was capable of cutting her to the quick with wicked words if provoked, he had been raised by lions after all. Looking at his kind expression, the crinkles around his eyes and grooves around his mouth from years of smiling, there was nothing judgmental or unkind there—just happy. 

When was the last time someone was made this happy by simply looking at her face. Never?

“Blue.”

The word cut through her thoughts, breaking whatever spell he had cast on her, and she fumbled with her purse and looked down at her feet, thinking of how to make a gracious escape.

“The dress should be blue…if you were to wear it. Blue is _definitely_ your color.” 

His voice assumed a gritty, growling quality that made her shiver, bedroom whispers in the middle of the afternoon, and she wondered if he affected everyone this way, if she was the only one he could render weak kneed with a glancing comment. 

“Thank you.” 

Jaime’s words came out of nowhere, spoken softly, hesitantly, catching her completely off guard once again. Unthinking she stumbled forward a step, the appeal of him a rope around her waist, tugging her close. Brienne doubted she would ever acclimate to his quickly shifting moods, those closest to him learning to trust the ever changing tide of emotions, happy to wash ashore where ever he took them. 

“For what?” Gods she sounded like a smitten school girl, breathy and grasping.

“For taking such good care of my baby brother…not many people see beyond…” He paused, not wanting his words to sound unkind, even when obviously spoken out of love. “His life has been hard, the world is often cruel to those who are different.” 

He stared into her eyes, and she felt him silently willing her to understand. _He knew._ Jaime had walked side by side with his brother, close enough to feel what it was like in his shoes, to be ostracized for something beyond your control, a random collection of genes dictating your lot. 

Tentatively he reached out and brushed the tip of his index finger along the back of her hand. Brienne held her breath as with slow, gentle strokes he outlined each knuckle, slid the length of each long, graceful finger. 

“You are an extraordinary woman, Tyrion is lucky to have found you.” 

“I’m not…he isn’t…” Her mind was numb, unable to focus beyond his hand on hers, the touch setting off sparks of electricity that crackled along her arm and coiled in her chest. 

“We found each other. Tyrion is an amazing person…he’s easy to love.” She had never confessed it before, even to herself, the depth of her feelings toward her accidental roommate, the surprise best friend who tested every nerve, in turn delighting and infuriating her. 

“It has been my pleasure.” It was the truth, her life took a dramatic turn for the better the day she met Tyrion. 

They stood close, her hand cradled in his, and Brienne wondered how she felt so at ease with a complete stranger. After what seemed a long time, and not long enough, he offered her his arm, nodding toward the dining room where his family was gathering.

“Shall we?” Jaime raised both eyebrows, lips parted in a blinding smile that set her heart beating faster and her innards quivering. 

She grinned and hooked her arm around his, allowing him to escort her to the table where Tywin and Cersei were already seated, sharing a confused look as they approached. 

They were just entering the room as Tyrion rounded the corner, half filled goblet in hand, he halted suddenly, eyes widening at the sight of them arm in arm. He gave them both a knowing look before letting loose a roar of laughter, bending double and almost spilling his wine as he shook with glee.

 _The Imp had set her up._

Damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone reading this. Thank you for the lovely kudos and comments, they truly make my day. Feel free to find me on Tumblr (@ilikeblue) and tell me your thoughts or suggestions.--T


	4. Here's To Taming Amazons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just what _exactly_ do you mean by that?” 
> 
> Any remaining pretense of civility washed away. Cersei leaned forward over her plate, lip curled back to reveal perfect white teeth, fisted hands resting lightly on the table. His sister had always been the alpha of their pack, vicious and precise, eyeing Brienne’s neck where the pulse thundered just below the surface with a lusty expression. 
> 
> Without thought Brienne gripped the dull dinner knife, twirling the heavy silver handle in her hand, flipping the blade over and over. Jaime thought that in another time she would have wielded a blade with the best of knights, she would have been unstoppable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very big thank you to **NightReaderEnigma** for editing the crap out of this chapter and making it so much better in the process. Another huge thanks to **Jailynn** for talking me through it when I couldn't find my voice and the chapter was in a shambles. Thank you to **Sari** for listening to me grumble. Thank you to **Ro** for her cover, her amazing Tumblr posts, and her support.

Brienne was blushing again, Jaime realized this must be a common occurrence, having witnessed it twice in the short time since he met her. Starting low in the dip of her sweater, it traveled quickly along her breastbone and under her jaw, color pooling on her cheeks in livid fuchsia circles. For some reason he found the reaction charming, her lack of guile so complete even her skin betrayed her. Entranced, Jaime gently pressed the back of his hand to the fiery flush of her neck, the need to feel just how hot she burned overriding his sense of propriety. 

With an effort he stilled his hand from moving, stifling the urge to tuck his hand beneath the edge of her sweater, seeking the place where the heat of her blush gave way to cool, pale skin. Jaime wanted to be the one to make her burn, heat bubbling to the surface conjured by his touch, his hands setting her aglow. Thoughts of the wench stained pink and laid bare beneath him making his breath quicken and an achy longing settle in his chest. 

Brienne looked to him in confusion, for a panicked instant he imagined she could see the lusty images in his head, wide blue eyes searching his for an explanation, her hand moving of its own accord to cover his as it rested against her neck. They lingered that way a moment until, brows furrowed, she huffed and brushed his hand away. Jaime’s face broke into an uncontainable grin as she graced him with a half hearted scowl before turning it on his brother. 

“Gods Tyrion, do shut up!” Her voice was loud and commanding, startling Jaime with it’s intensity. 

His little brother did not seem the least bit intimidated by the giant woman’s bluster, if anything it spurred on his mirth, tears streaming down his face with the force of his laughter. Jaime would have found it incredibly annoying if he were not so happy to see Tyrion this carefree. 

_Gods when have we last laughed together?_

Brienne must have decided the same, after a few seconds conceding her glare and chuckling along. “You’re an incorrigible idiot Tyrion Lannister. I take back all the nice things I have ever said about you.”

Plopping down in one of the dining room chairs, she patted the seat next to her, and his brother shuffled obligingly to her side. So fast as to be almost unnoticeable she reached over and gave Tyrion a boost into the too tall chair, once seated his legs dangled several feet above the floor. Brienne performed the action with such nonchalance, neither of them acknowledging the gesture as out of the ordinary, and Jaime was thunderstruck by the image of her doing little kindnesses for his brother all the time. 

Ten minutes was much too short an acquaintance to allow it, still he considered grabbing her by the cheeks, smashing his lips to hers and kissing her senseless. The care she showed his brother staggered him, swirled around in his head, mixing with lust for her long limbs and strong shoulders until he felt drugged. Head woozy and pulse whooshing in his ears as he took a seat beside her. Jaime found it increasingly difficult to look away from her unusual face, the way her presence affected him both terrifying and intoxicating. He could not remember the last time he was this enthralled by a woman, surely not since he was a teen and Cersei lead him around by his cock. 

His step sister watched their approach with a puckered look on her face, as if she had swallowed something sour and the taste lingered on her tongue. Her eyes darted between the three, Jaime to Brienne to Tyrion and back, brows knitted as she tried to discern the relationship between them. 

“How’s the job Jaime? Still slogging away in that dead end position…you know the Starks will never promote you.” He wondered how his sister could sound so chipper while attempting once again to flay his reputation, digging at the same sores she opened at every opportunity. 

“They assigned me to the Great Sept renovation project. It’s a perfect fit…you know how much I enjoy researching historical sites.” Jaime smiled in spite of her judgement, he really did like his job, especially the current task. He thought he caught Brienne smiling too, the idea that she could be proud of what he was doing making his heart thrum with happiness. 

“Of course they have.” Cersei rolled her eyes, staring intently at her napkin as she draped it across her lap, making a show of not meeting his gaze. 

“What exactly do you mean by that?”Jaime regretted immediately not letting the subject drop, pride and curiosity getting the best of him. 

“Just that…it’s the kind of project you can lose someone in…make them part of a large team with government oversee. No chance to distinguish yourself, to show them exactly what you can do. They want to keep you groveling.” Cersei used the tines of her fork to swirl patterns in her gravy, clearly more interested in his discomfort than food. 

“I don’t see it that way, it’s important work. We’re saving the history of the city…of Westeros actually. So many monumental events occurred in that very structure, not to mention the sept that existed on that site prior to the great fire. New relics are unearthed every day.”

“Any swords?”

Brienne paused mid bite, the words a whisper compared to the loud back and forth between siblings, directing a look of barely contained enthusiasm toward Jaime that made him squirm in his seat and forget what he had just said. 

“What?” He was staring at her eyes again, they glistened like dark sapphire pools in the candlelight. 

“I just wondered…” Her voice was forced, finding herself the center of attention, she stiffened under Cersei and Tywin’s stares. “I thought…maybe they found some swords during the renovation? They still haven’t located Widow’s Wail, the period is right…it could be there.” Mumbling the last words, she shoved a bite of turkey in her mouth and looked down at her plate. 

“Brienne studies ancient weapons and fighting styles…when she’s not cutting into people for a living.” Tyrion chimed in, looking pointedly at Jaime before turning to Brienne. “Did you know…Jaime was a history minor in college, with a focus on the military history of Westeros. He specialized in swords and armor. What an odd coincidence hmm?” Eyes twinkling he raised a half full goblet to his lips, almost in time to hide his grin. 

“I couldn’t give a damn about your pet project.” Cersei’s indignant voice sliced through polite conversation, the wine loosening her tongue, pent up venom spilling freely from purpled lips. “I think you enjoy being their lackey boy, reporting to your little cubicle, dressing like a vagabond in sandals and ripped jeans. Ignoring your family to play building blocks…” 

“Cersei…they’re called casual Fridays for a reason…” Jaime used his most soothing voice, trying to smooth things over, hoping that by some miracle of the Seven she would let it drop. 

“We are the most influential family in Westeros. People talk…it’s humiliating. Our father can not run the company forever. It is your responsibly to learn the position…work toward a smooth transition in leadership.” Cersei was livid, voice rising as she jabbed her fork in his direction for emphasis, blond curls bouncing in agreement with each word.

“Why must it be his responsibility?” 

Brienne spoke softly, her words hung bare in the painful quiet that followed, meeting his sister’s gaze with eyes like glaciers, cool and unyielding.

“I beg your pardon…this is a _family_ matter. I tolerated your unappealing presence for my brother’s sake, it is bad enough to look at you…I refuse to suffer through your unwelcome words as well.” Frost formed on her lips, his sister’s fury barely controlled.

Every muscle in his body tensed, drawn tight for the pounce, teeth grinding in rage. _I will defend her._ Lacking any claim or right he would rush headlong into battle to defend her virtue. Looking to his brother he knew Tyrion would do the same. 

Beside him Brienne cocked her head and bit softly at her lip, gaze never wavering, unblinkingly stubborn, irrationally brave. No wonder Tyrion thought she hung the stars. _He might be right._

_Gods she is magnificent._

Taking a deep breath she dove back into the melee. “I’m just asking…why him? There must be dozens of people on the payroll who are better qualified, ones with experience and passion…people would fall over themselves to land that job. Why must it be him?” 

“What would _you_ know of family?” Cersei spat the words at her, a cruel glint in her cut glass eyes. “You must have no real family of your own, otherwise you would not resort to freeloading on mine. My sweet brother charges you _far_ too little for a first class apartment downtown…I’ve checked the books… _I know._ ” 

Cersei paused, gaze sliding up and down the big woman, her lips curled in a lecherous smirk. “Makes me wonder what… _arrangement_ you two must have. Some other form of compensation perhaps?” 

Air exploded from Jaime’s lips, mouth moving to chastise his sister, when his little brother beat him to the punch. _“Seven hells Cersei…that is totally out of line!_ ” The small lion roared, rocking forward in his seat, face red and fists shaking in his lap. Jaime barely caught Brienne’s furtive movement, a large hand darting to Tyrion’s under the table, small fingers lost in hers, squeezing quickly to still the trembling. Silent reassurance passed between them, her stoic expression never wavering. 

“Not _everyone_ expects something in return for kindness. Love is not a commodity to barter, it is too precious to exchange for services rendered. My friendship is enough for _him_ .” At this she inclined her head toward Tyrion, who stared up at her in wonder. “ _His_ is enough for me.”

Jamie found himself leaning forward to listen to her low, lilting voice. Hoping that some day she would speak of him in the same reverent tones. For a moment even his sister seemed pacified, cowed by her dignity. Pausing, Brienne weighed whether or not to continue, the urge to speak her mind overwhelming her sense of self preservation. 

“And despite _everything_ you have done…your brothers love you. They should be enough.”

“You beast!” Cersei was livid, eyes narrowed and hands gripping the edge of the table, she lifted from her chair to meet the taller woman’s gaze head on. “How dare you come into our home and judge me…my relationship with my brothers is none of your concern.” 

“I lost my brother and mother when I was five. The only people who care about me in this gods forsaken world are Tyrion and my father…they _are_ my family. That makes it my concern.” Jaime could hear the pain in her voice, all the loss and heartache pouring out as she bared this small part of her soul. He longed to grab her by the shoulders and pull her to him, tell her that he would tend to her with the love of a hundred men, a thousand…

 _I obviously lost my mind at some point earlier in the evening…around the time she bent to fetch her purse._

Cersei smiled, a cruel, calculating expression that marred her lovely features. “You are just some stranger passing through his life. Ten years from now he will hardly remember your name…the big, beastly woman he used to live with. _I am very close with my brothers._ ”

“Oh… _I know._ ” 

Brienne’s reply was so quiet, barely audible in the wake of Cersei’s tirade, but Jaime heard it loud as a scream. _Oh…fuck._

_Fuck, fuck…fucking Tyrion!_

She _knew_ , had known all along that he and Cersei once were lovers. Why in seven hells would his brother tell Brienne about their affair, much less bring her to dinner and act as if he might have the slightest chance of impressing her? For all he knew their own father was still in the dark.

 _She must think I’m a monster_ . 

Jaime chanced a look in her direction--her expression had not changed. Her eyes still shined with tenderness, her mouth still soft and inviting. Look as he might, Jaime could not find revulsion or distain in her mismatched features. Brienne was defending him. In spite of what she knew, regardless of what he had done, she was battling his sister over a half eaten diner for the prize of his honor. 

“Just what _exactly_ do you mean by that?” 

Any remaining pretense of civility washed away. Cersei leaned forward over her plate, lip curled back to reveal perfect white teeth, fisted hands resting lightly on the table. His sister had always been the alpha of their pack, vicious and precise, eyeing Brienne’s neck where the pulse thundered just below the surface with a lusty expression. 

Without thought Brienne gripped the dull dinner knife, twirling the heavy silver handle in her hand, flipping the blade over and over. Jaime thought that in another time she would have wielded a blade with the best of knights, she would have been unstoppable. 

“I am aware of just how… _intimately_ …you are involved in your brothers’ lives, how you use your history as leverage. It isn’t fair…they deserve to find their own happiness. If the job with Lannister Corporation is so important why don’t you take it? It is obviously your desire…not theirs.” Brienne was not budging, holding her ground, daring Cersei to advance. “ _Nothing_ is worth losing your family. Their _loyalty_ …their _love_ …that is what really matters in this world.” Her voice was quiet, deadly, irrefutable.

Brienne dropped the knife and stared down at her plate, appetite clearly gone. She looked forlorn and embarrassed, red once again mottling her cheeks and neck, shoulders slumping for the first time since he met her. 

From the corner of his eye Jaime saw his father look up. Tywin Lannister had been tactfully ignoring the back and forth between Brienne and his daughter, presumably unconcerned with what transpired as he thought never to see Tyrion’s roommate again. Brienne’s defense of family and loyalty caught his attention, taking note of her for the first time, his lips pursed in what could be mistaken for a smile. Jaime found the expression terrifying. 

“Miss..Tarth isn’t it? Are you related to Selwyn Tarth?” Tywin’s cool indifference cut through the tension, forcing Brienne to look up. 

“Yes sir…he’s my father.” She looked briefly to Tyrion for support before meeting his father’s gaze. 

“The same Selwyn Tarth that owns _Tarth Transport_ …am I correct?” Brienne nodded, face falling as he spoke. “He has quite the fleet of ferries…six I believe…with plans for expansion in the next few years. Your father is an excellent businessman, his company was the tenth most profitable in Westeros last year if memory serves.” Tywin raised both eyebrows, and Jaime had the sinking feeling that his father had been waiting all night to deliver that piece of information.

Brienne looked to crawl under the table. Tyrion was staring at her, eyes wide and mouth open, clearly this was not a point they had discussed. The light pink blush she carried all evening bloomed vivid red once more, splotches forming on shoulders and chest. 

“Yes sir. The current fleet sails from Tarth to Storm’s End, but my father is developing several high speed catamarans that will service Pentos. They should be up and running in three years.” Brienne spoke with pride, love for her father superseding her own discomfort. 

“That will be quite the feat if he can pull it off. I can only imagine how profitable they will be.” Tywin shook his head, it was rare that Jamie had seen him impressed. “Tyrion, why did you not tell me more about our guest beforehand? We could have invited Selwyn as well.” Tyron looked at his father dumbfounded, unable to come up with an excuse that did not give away his ignorance. 

From across the table Cersei cackled, hand covering her mouth in mock dismay. “So that is the reason you both are swooning over the ugly cow. Did you think you could buy your way out of the family between her thick thighs? Is the name ‘Lannister’ so repulsive?” At that she looked to Brienne, victory in her sly smile.

For the first time since meeting him Brienne appeared hurt, the blush receding, replaced by a horrible pallor that made even her freckles fade. Jaime reached out to grab her hand, saw Tyrion do the same on her other side. Looking from one to the other she tried to smile, but her eyes were pained, and she blinked rapidly to push back the moisture gathering in the corners.

“If you will excuse me…I think I need some air.” Swallowing hard she yanked both hands free and turned on her heel, striding from the dining room with long, frantic steps. Jaime heard the patio door slide open and shut behind her. As one, his brother and he turned furious eyes toward their sweet step sister. 

“Gods Tyrion…what exactly did you think to accomplish by bringing that horrible woman to dinner?” Cersei was shaking her head, calmly lounging in her chair, half full glass twirling between thumb and index finger, the unfortunate incident already settled in her mind. 

Tyrion stared at her across the table, taking in her self-satisfied look before turning to Jaime and smiling softly. “If all goes as planned, giving my overly devoted…much too forgiving…often _clueless_ brother the nicest present of his gods forsaken life.” Raising his eyebrows in question he met Jaime’s gaze, and for once there was no laughter in his brother’s eyes, only concern, and kindness, and hope. 

“What say you Jaime…she’s waiting.” Tyrion nodded over his shoulder in the direction Brienne had exited, eyes still fixed relentlessly on his.

There was no decision to make, not really, his heart already declaring defeat. “Please…”Jaime looked between Tryion and Cersei as he backed toward the exit. “I _somehow_ love you both…please don’t kill each other while I’m gone.” 

In a near panic he bolted to the exit, chest pounding, praying he could heal the wounds inflicted by his sister’s cruel words before Brienne locked her heart to the entire loathsome family. Behind him he heard Tyrion start to clap, peals of laughter echoing off the walls.

“Fucking imp!” Cersei snarled loud enough to carry the length of the room, but Jaime found it hard to care. 

_Brienne is waiting._

“Here’s to taming amazons!” Tyrion’s toast rang out as his hand clutched the doorknob. 

_She is waiting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think. Every kudo or comment is cherished.--T


	5. "To best friends and fucked up families..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The glint in his eyes was dangerous, simultaneously feral and very, very controlled. Focused rage like the edge of a knife, looking at his step sister as if he might just kill her, or maybe not, only he would decide. Her stomach was doing strange things that she could not blame on her half digested meal, flipping and squeezing, a heaviness low in her abdomen that she was fairly certain originated in other, more private areas, as she watched Jaime’s pupils dilate with anger, the emerald rings deepening and receding...
> 
> Part of her wondered what all that focused energy would look like when channeled into other emotions, if he loved as furiously as he raged, and if so…gods what must that be like. She squirmed at the thought of his intense eyes raking over her body, strong hands exploring, teasing every inch of her long frame into submission. Brienne broke into a sweat that had nothing to do with embarrassment or anger, her emotions tumbling out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first, sorry for the F bomb in the title of this chapter. I just could not seem to help myself. Also, HO HO HO...hope this brings a little holiday cheer. Thank you so much to Madelyn (NightReaderEnigma) for allowing me to rope her into being my beta, it happened so slowly she didn't suspect a thing. She is writing a beautiful holiday fiction, please find her on AO3. Thank you to Ro_Nordmann and Jailynn who are my constant therapists/cheerleaders, both have patiently read my stories over, and over, and over. They are amazing and talented, please look for their writing on AO3 as well. Finally to Meriwyn who happily pre-reads and guides me when I go astray. Another talented author in the middle of a great fiction with cool original characters, she almost makes me like Bran, almost.

_I need to get the fuck out of this room._

It was the only thought in her mind, blinding in its singular intensity, overriding the feel of Jaime’s hand grabbing hers, the irrational jolt of electricity that seemed to follow every minuscule contact of his skin with hers.For a fleeting second she took in Tyrion’s horrified expression and matched it with that of his older brother, Jaime’s outrage outshining even that of her closest friend.While Tyrion looked ready to berate his sister, embarrass her in a way that was equally spectacular to her dressing down of Brienne, Jaime simply wanted to break something. 

The glint in his eyes was dangerous, simultaneously feral and very, very controlled. Focused rage like the edge of a knife, looking at his step sister as if he might just kill her, or maybe not, only he would decide. Her stomach was doing strange things that she could not blame on her half digested meal, flipping and squeezing, a heaviness low in her abdomen that she was fairly certain originated in other, more private areas, as she watched Jaime’s pupils dilate with anger,the emerald rings deepening and receding.

Brienne had never felt so protected, not by Tyrion, not by her father.She was the responsible one: faithful friend, defender of the weak, strong shoulder to cry on.Never once had someone gazed upon her as if they would trudge through all seven hells to defend her honor, that privilege was reserved for fair maidens, not sullen giantesses with a huge chip on their shoulder.Jaime intuitively recognized the smushy center she hid under hardened layers of indifference, a fact she found both liberating and terrifying, exposing her in a way that was brand new and disorienting.

Part of her wondered what all that focused energy would look like when channeled into other emotions, if he loved as furiously as he raged, and if so…gods what must _that_ be like.She squirmed at the thought of his intense eyes raking over her body, strong hands exploring, teasing every inch of her long frame into submission.Brienne broke into a sweat that had nothing to do with embarrassment or anger, her emotions tumbling out of control.

There was something about Jaime Lannister that shook her, made her question her view of herself and the world.When he looked at her she felt witty and intriguing, powerful, almost…sexy?That thought was laughable. No one had ever, _ever_ considered her sexy, which was why she was possibly the oldest virgin in Westeros.

Shaking her head to clear the salacious thoughts, she yanked her hands free from the Lannister boys with more than warranted aggression.Brienne was livid with herself for saying yes to coming, for allowing Cersei to push all her well concealed buttons, and for mooning over a beautiful stranger, defending him and making an ass of herself in the process. With a very unladylike huff she turned, practically sprinting toward the nearest door.

**< ><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Tywin Lannister had a koi pond.Sitting on a stone bench beside the large glassy pool it made perfect sense, Tyrion’s father _would_ spend an enormous amount of coin on pets that were distinctly un-petable, their sole purpose to look elegant when the rare guest visited. _Much easier to own things than to love them._

She heard the door open and close behind her.Without turning she broke into an apology. “I’m sorry Tyrion, I should have kept my mouth shut. Stay and hang out with Jaime, I’ll get a ride…or we can call it an afternoon and hit the liquor store on the way home.” _Nothing._ No answer. Tyrion was never quiet, he must be more upset than she thought.

Footsteps on the pavers at her back warned of someone’s approach, as a jacket was slipped over her shoulders.Large hands smoothed it into position before gently circling her arms, thumbs rubbing small patterns through the slick fabric. There was an unexpected intimacy to the gesture, part hug, part caress, and Brienne wanted desperately to lean back into the embrace.

“Not Tyrion…hope you don’t mind my company instead.” Jaime leaned over her neck, full lips almost brushing the top of her ear, every word he spoke causing the little hairs at her temple to shift. Brienne shivered.

_I’m ticklish?_

She had never noticed before. Silently Brienne berated herself for living a life so devoid of physical contact that she had never noticed something so basic.How had Jaime Lannister teased _that_ realization out of her in less than an hour? Thoughts racing forward, she wondered what other sensations he could introduce her to if given more time.

_Gods, I need a drink._

As if on cue Jaime rounded the bench and plopped down beside her, close enough that their thighs pressed together, a bottle of scotch and two glasses in hand. “I thought you might need this.” He poured them each a shot, tucking the bottle under the bench before lifting his glass in a toast.

“To best friends and fucked up families…may the two never mix.” He grinned, clinking her glass and swallowing the amber liquid in one gulp.Brienne giggled— _gods she giggled_ —and took a small sip, the pungent, peaty taste filling her mouth and heating its way to her stomach. 

She found herself staring at Jaime’s smiling face. He really did have the best smile.Little lines etched into the space between his nose and the corners of his mouth, others circling the folds of his eyes.She knew just from looking that he spent his life laughing.

“Your smile reminds me of Tyrion. He has the prettiest smile.” Brienne blushed, the words spoken before she had a chance to think them over, but true nevertheless. When Jaime smiled he looked like his little brother, both bubbling with mirth and love. 

A strange expression crossed Jaime’s face, Brienne was working to discern the meaning when he leaned into her, catching her unaware and pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth.It lasted an instant, a brush of lips, there and gone before she could miss them. Her brain slowed to a stop, only afterward registering the faint taste of scotch and the warmth of his skin.She laid her fingers over the spot, holding the feel of him there.

“Thank you.” Jaime’s voice was low and soft, his expression so sincere. Brienne had no idea why he was thanking her, he had done the kissing.

_Perhaps I should thank him instead?_

“What for?” She felt silly asking.

“For noticing my brother’s smile…not many people do.”

“Oh.” Brienne was unsure what to say to that. Beyond the short stature, which was too pronounced to miss, Tyrion’s smile had been the first thing she noticed about him. 

Shaking his head, Jaime stared at the empty glass, lips pursing and relaxing, words he was not sure he wanted to share twisting around in his mouth.“I _am_ sorry about my family, my step sister in particular.She can be a vicious beast, especially when she does not get her way. You are a complication that she never planned for.”

“A complication? I don’t understand how…” She had never interacted with Cersei before today, that she would have any opinion of her at all was shocking, that it was negative seemed unthinkable.

“Cersei never had control over Tyrion, he was always too clever for her…could see through her manipulation.I was… _much_ slower to catch on. It was Tyrion who finally made me see Cersei for what she is…what our relationship was.Control and love are not the same thing.”He looked up at that, grinning once more.“It only took twenty-plus years and a good therapist to figure that out.” He chuckled, but she could see the pain he was trying valiantly to hide.

Brienne had never been bold, not where men were concerned, and certainly not beautiful ones. Something about Jaime Lannister made her a different person, one willing to take chances with her heart, set herself up for scrutiny that normally she would do everything in her power to avoid. 

_He is hurting, I should comfort him. What choice is there?_

With a darting motion she grabbed his hand, the movement performed as fast possible, granting herself less time to reconsider the action. She squeezed a little too tight, more crush than caress, but it was physical contact that _she_ initiated, and Brienne saw it as a victory of sorts. Jaime seemed to agree, giving a startled squeak and looking briefly shocked, his features quickly settled into a satisfied smirk. He sighed and squeezed back, index finger stroking seductively against her palm.

“I listen to Tyrion, and he listens to you.My brother has decided that you and I are _his people_ , he desperately wants us to get along… _and we do get along_.” He lowered his eyelids, looking both sheepish and seductive, Brienne found herself staring at his lips, wishing they had lingered just a minute or two more. 

“Cersei has never been outmaneuvered, yet here you are, in a position of power over both brothers. You defend my choice of occupation…thank you for that by the way.” He brought her hand to his lips, placing a quick kiss against her knuckles before continuing. “And you do not use your family’s money or prestige to gain favor.You, my dear, are her worst nightmare.” 

Brienne thought of Cersei’s face, how it fell for just an instant as both Jaime and Tyrion grabbed her hands in support. She must feel alone and abandoned, Brienne almost felt sorry for the woman. Almost.

“So you’re rich too huh?” Jaime smiled, relishing the change in conversation. 

“Yes…but no?My father is a self made man, grew up working on fishing boats, paid his own way through college, earned a degree in mechanical engineering.All the profit goes right back into the company, he still lives in the house I grew up in.While the numbers look good on paper, the reality is quite different.I couldn’t ask him to pay for college or medical school, not if it meant taking the salary from two or three employees to do it.” Jaime nodded, understanding in his thoughtful expression.

“I wouldn’t let my father pay for anything. I wanted to choose my own path, cutting myself off from his wealth was the only way to do it.”He was shaking his head again. “We are the two most stubborn spoiled brats in Westeros…are you sure we’re not related?”

_Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t…_

“I wish.” 

_Oh gods. Let it drop._

“Why?”

“Because then maybe I would have a chance.”

_Just. Stop._

“A chance at what?”

“You.” 

_Damn. There it is._

Brienne held her breath, waiting for Jaime to release her hand and quietly walk back to the house, or worse explode at her impudence.Instead he laughed, a roaring guffaw that started in his toes and shook through him. “Brienne Tarth…did you just make an _almost_ incest joke at my expense?Tyrion would be so proud.” 

Jaime was grinning from ear to ear.Impulsively he leaned over and kissed her again, this time missing her mouth altogether, touching lips to eyelid, brushing against the lashes.It shouldn’t have been arousing, but somehow was, and Brienne closed her eyes and sighed. Jaime was looking at her intently when she opened them again.

“I would call this…” He waved his hand back and forth between them, indicating some sort of invisible tether. “…more than a _chance._ ” Jaime’s voice was silk, sliding over Brienne and making her tingle, little ripples of desire surfacing in its wake.

“I don’t understand. Men like _you_ do not pay attention to women like _me_.” She was obviously misconstruing something in his actions, misinterpreting his words.

“There are no men like me.” The words would sound silly coming from anyone else, but Jaime looked at her through half lidded eyes, lips parted as his tongue wet the bottom one in interest, and it felt like a shock down her spine. She shifted against the hard bench under his gaze.

Jaime raised his eyebrows, mirth and confusion mingling in his features. “How in seven hells could I _not_ pay attention to all six-foot- _whatever_ of legs and ass and freckles…you take my breath away.” 

Feeling the start of an idiotic grin spreading across her face, she lifted one hand to hide her large lips and big teeth. Jaime promptly yanked it away. “You are brilliant and kind, decent, honorable…and _sexy_.” Brienne snorted at this, a very unladylike sound that he seemed to find endearing. “I _mean_ it Brienne…anyone who fails to notice how fucking sexy you are needs to have their eyesight examined…not to mention their rear end kicked for making you doubt how extraordinary you are.”

He was looking directly into her eyes, and Brienne knew, just _knew_ , he was being honest. Still, she found herself staring blankly, a furrow deepening between her brows as they pulled forward in a frown.All the while shaking her head back and forth.

_No, no, no._

“You are most charming when you scowl wench.”

_Wench?_

Before she could reply Jaime ran an index finger teasingly down the center of her forehead, smoothing her worry lines, continuing along the bridge of her nose and circling the tip with the pad of his finger.Trailing lower he marked the outline of her upper lip, following a line of freckles across her cheek.

Brienne closed her eyes, relishing the feather light strokes, delightful tingles shooting straight to her core, she gasped. Seizing the opening, Jaime lunged forward, pressing his mouth against the warm part of her lips, tongue thrusting forward without hesitation, claiming her with an intensity that clouded her thoughts. Slow, rhythmic movements as he tasted her mixed with the growling sound she felt in the back of his throat and made her heart stutter. Twisting her free hand in his hair, she yanked his lips tighter and moaned.

Brienne lost track of how long they kissed. Long enough for her feet to feel like blocks of ice against the stone patio and her fingers to go numb despite burrowing in Jaime’s hands and hair.Long enough for her to envision straddling him on the bench and wiggling under his shirt to see if the fur there was still golden.Long enough to contemplate how it would feel to sink in his lap and know _exactly_ how much he wanted her. 

It was Jaime who pulled back first, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear and placing one last peck at the corner of her pinked lips. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Brienne was having trouble remembering what day it was, limbs still trembling from the memory of his touch.“I work until six or so…why?”

“Meet me at the renovation site…the sept.I’ll show you the underground rooms that have been unearthed, the artifacts are incredible…no swords yet but…” He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed.“Dinner after…”

“Are you asking me on a date?” She had regained her voice, finally trusting that, for some unfathomable reason, Jaime Lannister was attracted to her.

“I would ask you on ten dates if I thought you would say yes.Completely fill up your calendar…just to be sure.”They sat in silence, it was surprisingly comfortable to savor his closeness, neither needing to fill the quiet with words.

“We are skipping over the casual dating aren’t we?”Brienne was thinking aloud, her calm acceptance of that fact incongruous with her painfully reserved demeanor, another odd effect of their budding partnership.

“Blew right past casual.” Jaime laughed, his eyes twinkled, the color of grass in spring.“I haven’t had one casual thought…not _one_ casual feeling about you since we met.”

“Tyrion is going to be unbearable.” She could imagine the smirk on her friend’s face upon realizing _he was right_ , that she and Jaime _were_ perfect for each other.

“We can’t let him win…how good are you at lying?” Brienne rolled her eyes and shook her head, she really was awful.

“So when he asks about us…and he _will_ ask…tell him the whole thing with Cersei was too much for you to overlook and we’re going to remain friends.” She crinkled her nose with distaste, not wanting to feign judging Jaime so quickly and finding him lacking.

“I will say that, sadly, you have spurned my advances and I plan on giving you space in the hope that you may someday change your mind. Now…do you have any pictures of men on your phone?”

“Men?” She was having trouble following him, her mind still caught on saying she was _not_ interested in Jaime Lannister. _What a silly notion._ “A couple…” She flipped through the photos. “Here’s one with my lab partners.”

Jaime peered at the smiling faces. “Who’s this rather average looking fellow?” He pointed to a man with muddy brown hair and a nondescript face.

“Oh that’s Hyle. He asked me out once…we went to see a Kung Fu movie and talked about sports all night.Nice enough just…no spark.” Brienne shrugged.She told Tyrion about the date, and he seemed inexplicably relieved when she said there would not be a second one.

_Just how long has he been plotting?_

Jaime entered his number, then created a new contact using Hyle Hunt’s name and photo, practically vibrating with mischief as his fingers danced over the keys. “I get the feeling Hyle is going to be calling and texting a lot.Make sure my brother can see the screen before you answer.”

He took her hand and walked her back inside, convincing her to stay a little while longer, if only for the coffee and turtle cheesecake.She agreed to meet him at the sept, with the specifics of the next nine dates to be determined later.Brienne thought of Tyrion, the Imp was going to freak out when she started ‘dating’ Hyle.

_It is an awful idea. A brilliant, awful idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am needy, I love comments. Please let me know what you liked or hated. Have a blessed holiday filled with family, joy, and love. Happy and healthy new year.


	6. Hyle Hunt My Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion could not pinpoint exactly when he decided Brienne and Jaime were meant to be together. From the moment he met her the two became in some ways interchangeable in his mind. The books he loaned Jaime were the same ones he recommended to Brienne. Jokes that made his brother laugh always worked on his room mate. When he envisioned the places he would like to explore, he saw both Jaime and Brienne at his side. Tyrion did not have the sight of legend, but he was particularly adept at understanding people, and he knew, unquestioningly, that these two souls fit together with a rare precision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas Eve. This chapter is a little short, but I think it stands alone well enough. My first Tyrion POV ever, so be gentle. Madelyn...I simply could not ask you to proofread today, so view this as as gift that is beta free, your help to this point has been invaluable. Ro...thanks for your support and friendship, I hope you enjoy. Jailynn thank you for your kindness and enthusiasm, you are a gift. Meriwyn you are the best, listening and helping at all kinds of crazy hours, thank you. Sari...thank you for talking things through, my guide through cannon when I have lost my way.

Tyrion was never a ‘people person’. Oh, he _was_ a talker, could charm the _Crone_ out of her panties if the mood hit him right, but it was just that. Talk. His only real friend was his older brother, but from the time Jaime first noticed the bulge of his cock as Cersei brushed delicate fingers along the inside of his thigh, he had been lost to Tyrion. A widening chasm between them as Jaime became snared in her skirts, forever chasing his sweet step sister with her whisper of ‘soulmates’ and a promise of love predestined and eternal.It was all horse shit.Death claimed everyone, there had been no salvation for Joanna Lannister, and she had loved hard enough to tame the grizzled old lion himself. 

They thought he would protect their secret, stand guard and warn them if someone questioned what they were doing alone together in her darkened bedroom.Cersei never saw beyond his flaws and what he could do for her, Tyrion was an embarrassment but a good little liar that she could wield with a pet and a sickly sweet smile.

So sure of her control over both Lannister sons, Cersei never dreamed he would find their father in his study one rainy Sunday and simply start talking. “At this moment your son is fucking your step daughter, has _been_ fucking her for over a year now.I know you grieve mother, _Gods_ I miss her as much as anyone, but you need to get your head out of your ass and fix this.”Tyrion had not waited for his answer, the compulsory denial that his offspring could inhabit such moral low ground, instead walking straight to his room and battening the hatches against the tempest he had unleashed.

In the aftermath Jaime was sent away, and Tyrion felt the guilt of it even now.Hindsight being kind, he knew the separation from Cersei had spared his brother a lifetime of heartache, pointed him in a direction where change was possible.That did not keep Tyrion from feeling like a disloyal bastard, the catalyst resulting in years of missed family dinners and lazy weekends together.He had pined for his brother terribly, even the half focused attention he received when Cersei was around better than nothing. 

Tyrion chipped away at Jaime’s bond with his step sister, making sure heknew exactly who Cersei was chasing, how little she grieved his absence, all the while praising his good grades, his newfound focus. After college Jaime found his way home, back to his baby brother, their bond stronger than ever.Tyrion vowed to spend the rest of his days atoning for the humiliation and hurt his honesty had wrought, desperate to see Jaime enjoy a life full of love and laughter, free of his sister’s rancor.

The night he met Brienne hangs in the ether of remembrance as an impossible truth.He knows it happened, but the memory seems unreliable, as if fantasy and reality swirled together and solidified in his mind into an image so unlikely as to be conjured.Brienne, towering and majestic, the _Warrior_ made flesh sheltering him behind her massive form.Hair glowing and fist clenched, the essence of her so aligned with Jaime that Tyrion was momentarily bewildered, certain his big brother had once again stepped forward as his champion. Jaime’s name hung briefly on his tongue, until she turned, shattering the illusion with her blindingly blue eyes and womanly mouth. 

He can still recall with astonishing clarity the moment she gazed down and saw him, _really saw him_ , wearing a look of understanding that only his mother and brother had ever possessed. Discerning the space between smile and soul, she deplored the hurt collected there, raged against the man who added the last bit. Tyrion watched with fascination as her fist connected with his tormentor’s nose, blood shooting outward so forcefully that Brienne’s face was specked with it.No one ever valued his defense in front of self preservation, not even Jaime. 

_How could I possibly let her go._

In the subsequent years he learned of her insecurities, how Brienne thought herself ugly and undesirable.How men had mocked her size and plain features, her thick waist and bulging arms. She shunned contact of any kind, ran from intimacy, built a fortress to hide her tender spirit.He knew without asking she was still a virgin, it was doubtful she had been properly kissed.None of that mattered, the image of her glorious and terrifying was burned in his mind, she was beyond beautiful.

Tyrion could not pinpoint exactly when he decided Brienne and Jaime were meant to be together. From the moment he met her the two became in some ways interchangeable in his mind. The books he loaned Jaime were the same ones he recommended to Brienne.Jokes that made his brother laugh always worked on his room mate. When he envisioned the places he would like to explore, he saw both Jaime and Brienne at his side. Tyrion did not have _the sight_ of legend, but he was particularly adept at understanding people, and he knew, unquestioningly, that these two souls fit together with a rare precision.

It took some groveling to get them both to attend the Lannister gathering, Tyrion quickly decided it was worth the effort as he spied Jaime eyeing Brienne with raw desire. He could scarce control his laughter at the sight, belly aching from the stress of containing it.Tyrion thought to grab the big woman and shake her, point at Jaime and say “Look… _there_ is your worth. He _understands_ , sees you for the goddess that you are and is desperate to worship at your feet.” Instead he waited, watching in stunned silence as his awkward, catastrophically shy friend blossomed in the heat of Jaime’s gaze. Brienne _flirted_ , or at least a close approximation, allowing his brother to gently stroke her hand, more physical contact than he had ever known her to tolerate.When he ran into them strolling arm in arm like a knight with his Lady, Tyrion lost all semblance of control,his face cracking open and all the barely contained joy flowing out on a stream of giggles.

He saw the moment his friend snapped, when her tolerance for Cersei’s vitriol ran out, sapphire eyes frosting over and every muscle in her impressive frame drawn taut. Brienne leaned forward, wielding the elegant cutlery like a dagger, and Tyrion thought his brother might faint from an overdose of panic and lust, his desire to defend Brienne clearly at odds with the part of him that craved protecting.

Jaime hung on her every word, and when she ran from the room he looked to Tyrion for permission to follow, frantic to console her.They returned together, faces flush and heads pressed close, a strange shift in the air as two people left but one unit returned.Jaime moved without asking to fetch her coffee, black with sugar as she liked, taking one piece of desert and two forks.They huddled on an ottoman in front of the fireplace, talking low, a month’s ration of smiles crossing Brienne’s face in a matter of minutes.

Jaime drove them both home and Tyrion lingered at the curb,sure he would pull Brienne aside for a hug and whispered plans, but nothing happened.His brother simply said how nice it had been to meet her, that he hoped the three of them could do something together at some point in the undefined future, and left. No numbers exchanged, not a hint of interest expressed by either party, and Tyrion could not help but wonder what the fuck had happened.

As soon as they were inside he asked Brienne what she thought of Jaime.She tried desperately to hide the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth, stating she liked him but found his history with Cersei ‘ _too complicated_ ’. They agreed, amicably, to remain friends. Tyrion could not decide whether to scream or laugh, the bitch managing to ruin his brother’s life without raising a finger.He knew better than to argue, Brienne had a pained look on her face that indicated her mind was made up.

The next day Hyle Hunt started calling.

When Brienne’s phone chirped signaling a new text message, Tyrion looked up with a grin. His roommate was not the texting type, her last hundred messages likely work related or from him.Since she was not on call, and he was in the same room, Tyrion assumed Jaime somehow found her number and was trying to smooth talk her into rethinking her decision.When he saw the picture on the screen he was disappointed, but not discouraged, Hunt had _nothing_ over his brother. Brienne had little to say about the man when he asked her out months earlier, and that was before Jaime swept her off her feet.

_Jaime did sweep her off her feet, he will not be convinced otherwise._

Then the strangest thing happened, she picked up the phone, looked at Hyle Hunt’s forgettable face, and smiled.It was _that_ smile, the one she rarely gifted, where her lips parted and her eyes danced.How in seven hells had Hyle Hunt earned _that_ smile?

“Who’s that?” Tyrion tried to sound casual.

“A friend.” She was barely listening, fingers flying over the keys, the smile not wavering.

“Isn’t that the loser who asked you to the movie…more interested in checking the scores than checking you out?” He tried to sound flippant, increasingly irritated the longer she stared at the screen.

“I texted him last night, thought I might give him a second chance.” She was avoiding his gaze now, embarrassment flushing her cheeks.This was uncharted territory for Brienne, she was never so daring.

“Him…really? He’s so ordinary.”

“We can’t all be golden lions Tyrion.” She sounded flustered, he felt guilty for questioning her. “I thought you would be happy. _‘Get out there…stretch your comfort zone…give people a chance.’_ Isn’t that what you said?I’m trying Tyrion…let me try, okay?” Her voice was shaking, clearly made uncomfortable by the conversation, and he couldn’t stand to see her so upset.

_Not his Brienne._

So he dropped it. Pretending not to notice when she giggled at Hunt’s messages, excusing himself when the phone rang and she scooped it up eagerly. Brienne started meeting Hyle for dinner, visiting him at work after her shift at the hospital ended.He sent her flowers, delivered dinner when her hours ran long and she forgot to eat.Tyrion had to give the devil his due, Hunt was going above and beyond to woo her.

The most disturbing part was how happy Brienne seemed.A fire lit inside her, radiating out into all parts of her being. She smiled unabashedly, no longer hiding her wide mouth and big teeth behind a raised hand, on more than one occasion wearing red lipstick that accentuated the fullness of her lips. Her usually slicked hair became tousled, falling in casual waves around her ears and over her forehead. She snorted and guffawed, no longer embarrassed by the unladylike assortment of sounds emanating from her large frame.It was magical to watch, a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.

He lamented his brother’s loss, and begrudged Hyle her affections, but could not feel anything less than joy over the changes in Brienne. He loved her too much for that.

Brienne had been seeing Hyle for a month when she announced they would attend the hospital New Year’s Eve party.Tyrion snickered, initially thinking it was a joke, she avoided formal gatherings as a rule, never once having seen her in a dress.She simply shook her head. “He says he wants to start the year with me in his arms…the first of many.I think I would like that.” She twisted her fingers nervously, her face more girlish than he had ever seen it, and he reluctantly agreed she should go.

The package arrived the day of the gala, they stood together at the breakfast bar as she opened it with fingers that trembled slightly.Inside was a breathtakingly elegant dress, midnight blue silk that shimmered as she lifted it, catching the light. Cut high in the front, it dipped scandalously low in the back, designed to show off strong shoulders and the well formed muscles along her spine before cupping tight to her backside and ending mid thigh. A small slit running up the back to accommodate her long stride. 

Tyrion knew from a glance it was custom made to fit Brienne, the packaging belonged to a boutique Cersei favored.The wheels in his head started spinning, this was not the kind of dress a fellow student could afford. Brienne rushed off to try it on, leaving the card face up for him to read.

**_This year and all those to come.Blue is definitely your color_.**

The card wasn’t signed, no signature was needed, Tyrion _knew_ who sent it. He dialed Bronn, talking fast and low before Brienne reappeared. “Hey, what are you doing tonight?I need your help crashing a party.”

_Hyle Hunt his ass._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just like to comment, commenting's my favorite. Happy Holidays.


	7. Definitely Not Disappointed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every time her phone chimed and Hyle Hunt’s smiling face appeared she felt rotten. Tyrion was her best friend, her saving grace, and Brienne was a liar. She wasn’t sure why she agreed to Jaime’s prank in the first place. It was true, the idea of telling Tyrion she was smitten with his brother made her palms sweat and her ears ring, his response so clear in her mind it seemed to have already happened. First he would laugh, long and hard, for days, and days, and days. Then he would meddle, trying his damnedest to make the match stick. Her first instinct had been to hide their relationship, avoid his torture, good intentions or no, for as long as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very, very special thank you to Jailynn and NightReaderEnigma. This is version two of this chapter, if you would like to read a much more angsty, downer version let me know. It was a group therapy session this week, these ladies are so patient. Thank you to Ro, Sari, and Meriwyn for reading and chatting and being their thoughtful, talented selves.

Brienne never thought of herself as desirable, her company not of the sort that people sought out.She was quiet, her honesty and honor so pronounced as to make others uncomfortable. Frequently moody and sullen, her prickly nature sometimes difficult to like. The greatest sin of her personality was feeling too much, loving with an intensity that was frightening, wanting so acutely it seemed her soul would break.As a child she vacillated between emotions, sudden shifts from elation to despair, always out of control, unsettled.She learned to quiet her thoughts, mute her sentiments and shield her heart.Growing more isolated and withdrawn with each passing year.

Tyrion had been the first to make a dent in her armor, looking at her with guileless eyes and an open heart, she instinctively responded in kind. He peeled back her layers, encouraging laughter, giving leeway to cry. His diminutive body held the capacity to love unconditionally, he schooled her in acceptance, with time finding the truth in his assertions of their individual worth.Tyrion taught her to value her big brain, her capable body, the father who never understood what made her tick but adored her anyway.Because of him she was able to accept Jaime’s attention, still not fathoming exactly why he found her irresistible, but brave enough to drop her guard and allow him a glimpse of the woman she might become if handled carefully, patiently.

Every time her phone chimed and Hyle Hunt’s smiling face appeared she felt rotten. Tyrion was her best friend, her saving grace, and Brienne was a liar.She wasn’t sure why sheagreed to Jaime’s prank in the first place.It was true, the idea of telling Tyrion she was smitten with his brother made her palms sweat and her ears ring, his response so clear in her mind it seemed to have already happened. First he would laugh, long and hard, for days, and days, and days. Then he would meddle, trying his damnedest to make the match stick. Her first instinct had been to hide their relationship, avoid his torture, good intentions or no, for as long as possible.

There was also a part of her that wanted to cradle this experience, the terrifying and wonderful journey of drifting together, keep it close, safe.A gift from the gods for her and Jaime alone. 

She still felt like a giant sized shit every time she saw Tyrion grimace as her phone rang, when he shook his head and wandered to his room, excusing himself from the discomfort of her conversation with “Hyle”. Especially since she knew the pain was unnecessary, Tyrion would be ecstatic if he knew Jaime was on the other end.She needed to fix this, and fast, the guilt a knife in her chest that twisted a little daily.

If “dating” Hyle was a misery, finding Jaime had been a revelation. 

A few dates into their fledgling relationship he told her of jumping off the cliffs at Casterly Rock, the unbound joy of tumbling through the air, a momentary reprieve from the shackles of gravity, the uncertainty of the landing outweighed by the ecstasy of the fall. He would crash through the surf breathless and trembling, struggle to surface, lips blue and limbs heavy from lack of air and the release that follows the withdrawal of fear.As he talked his eyes drifted closed, a contented smile twisting his mouth at the memory.When he finished she found herself once again staring into deep green pools, roiling like the sea at dusk as he blinked at her longingly.“Loving you is like falling…dangerous, liberating, too rapturous to resist.”Jaime looked at her expectantly, gaze drifting to her lips, lids lowering in trepidation.

“Oh…I…”. Brienne fell silent, at best her words less elegant than his, now her half formed thoughts circled, spurred to a frantic gallop by the purr of his voice, the heat of his stare. She sunk into his shoulder, nuzzling her head against his neck, thick arms swallowing him in a suffocating embrace. The need to eliminate any distance between them thrummed through her veins, as present as her heartbeat, palpable as the desire to breathe.

_He feels it too, he feels the same._

She stayed late, kissing and cuddling, Jaime sensed that the emotional ground covered was disconcerting enough for one evening and did not press.Brienne reeled at the speed with which her reserve had fallen, how easily her world had shifted to accommodate Jaime as the center. Her feelings were nonsensical, but at least there was unity in the insanity.She searched her heart for regret and came up empty. 

**< ><><><><><>**

The next week she showed up at his office late, everyone else long gone, Jaime working to finalize plans for the sept project before deadline.Brienne brought a blanket, carry out dinner, and her laptop, stretching out on the floor by his drafting table to study.Jaime perched in a high stool, pouring over drawings and staring at a screen, occasionally tossing an eraser at her backside to gain attention. They sat in silence for over an hour before she spoke. “I’m a virgin.” The words came out flat, they were her constant companion, hanging in the silence between sentences, taunting her for weeks, demanding to be spoken.Fear and relief flooding her system now that he knew. Brienne needed Jaime to understand the weird responsibly she was foisting upon him, there was no how to manual for deflowering an almost 30 year old with a lifetime of hang ups regarding her looks and desirability.

She kept her eyes down, waiting for Jaime’s response. _Please don’t laugh._ _I can’t take laughter, not about this_.After horrible minutes of complete silence she fixed her resolve and met his gaze.

The quiet dragged on, minutes passed as she watched him process her words, absorb them, feel them as true. Jaime sat unmoving, staring with an intensity that was unnerving, emotions scrolling across his expressive face.Disbelief, fleeting, replaced almost immediately by delight so obvious as to be obnoxious and just a touch of mirth. A beat passed, then another, Brienne saw the shift in his countenance, the green of his eyes retreating as lust rushed forward, undisguised and barely contained, burning at his core.

__

_“Never_ Brienne? Has no one tried…” His voice a husky whisper, breaking on the last word.

“No…no one…” Brienne felt the blood rising, hot with embarrassment but unable to look away, the want in his gaze so potent, so mesmerizing, completely foreign.

Jaime shifted in his seat, fingers gripping and releasing the side of his desk, a pained expression on his face. “Brienne…please…I know. Gods, I _know_ I have no right to ask, but how far…” He stopped, stumbling over the words, shaking his head. “A touch…a look?”

“No… _nothing_.” It was humiliating, her failure as a woman on full display, she wanted to crawl under the blanket and never come out. No wonder Jaime looked in agony, probably rueing his error injudgement.

With a groan he knelt beside her, his long body draping across her back as she laid on her stomach, face burrowing into the hair at the base of her neck. “ _Fuck Brienne…fuck._ ” Fingers tore through her hair, turning her face to his and capturing her lips in a searing kiss. “They were blind idiots Brienne…the whole lot…fucking idiots.” His lips trailed across her cheek, nipping and pulling at jaw and neck, leaving little red half circles with each tug of flesh.“If you allow me, if you desire me, I’ll gladly take you.” 

She nodded, the feel of his lips sliding along her throat stealing her voice. “…I _want_ you, be my first…” Brienne closed her eyes, lost in the weight of him pressing her down, hips grinding gently against her thigh.

“Your first, your last.You are _mine_ Brienne.” He growled the words against her shoulder, low and predatory. “First look, first touch, first taste…” She trembled beneath him as he listed his claim, willing to give him anything he asked and more.

An understanding settled between them, the knowledge of what they would become comforting in its surety.Silently he stroked her hair, ran firm fingers along the length of her spine. Reveling in the way his body fit with hers, his hard planes a match for her meager curves.

“I take it you’re not disappointed.” She giggled, fear and awkwardness dissolving with the force of his ardor, leaving her giddy.

“No,” he chuckled. “Definitely _not_ disappointed.” He smiled, warmth glowing behind stained glass eyes.Kissing the tip of her nose he pushed to his feet, turning away quickly, he fumbled to adjust his stance before she noticed. His back still to her, he mumbled an apology. “Sorry, I really should work.” There was regret in his voice, a sadness in letting go if only for the moment.

“Me too.” She looked at her laptop, using her fist to hide a very unladylike grin, unable to focus past the joy filling her thoughts. _You are mine._ The new mantra of her dreams, repeating endlessly in his graveled voice.

_I am his._

**_< ><><><><><>_ **

The night of the New Year’s Eve party Brienne was a bundle of nerves. She You Tubed a video on how to style fine hair, texted a colleague at work who always looked nice asking which product to use, and ran to the mall on a desperate mission to find underwear that matched her dress, not that she was necessarily planning to show them to anyone.

She dried her hair upside down, lined her lips and eyes, and put on the bright red lipstick Jaime seemed to like.She still looked like Brienne: lips too big, large teeth and crooked nose, hair too straw-like to be considered attractive.But the dress fit tight as a glove, making her feel more sexy and feminine than she thought possible, and the deep blue material caught her eyes and set them aglow.Her hair had a slight curl, her legs looked spectacular in the heels she wore when she met Jaime, all in all she thought herself passable.Coming from her brain, this classified as a compliment of stunning magnitude.

She was upended by a wave of guilt after finding Tyrion on their couch, awaiting the final product of all her primping. 

“You look beautiful legs.” He forced a smile, it never reached his eyes, a dullness to his voice betraying the underlying sadness. “He would love you in that dress…or out of it.” A hint of the usual smirk chasing that comment.

Brienne looked at her feet, unable to meet his gaze. “Oh I don’t know, it’s a bit Cersei-like, he might hate it.”She balanced back and forth on the balls of her feet, avoiding dents in the hardwood from the spikes of her heels.This was how they spoke of Jaime now, using “he” and “him” to circle around the object of their mutual discontent, both of them hurting but for completely different reasons. “I never said _never_ Tyrion, just not now, with everything else so unsettled…” His loss of hope tearing at her heart. 

“That was before young Master Hunt decided to throw caution to the wind and seduce you like a Lannister.” Their eyes met, his searchingand calculated, she feared there was a jest at her expense hidden in his words. No, not a jest, a secret perhaps? “You are lost to my brother now.”

Brienne shook her head, looking over his shoulder, deliberately missing his eyes. “I’m neither lost nor claimed, Tyrion.” She swallowed back the memory of Jaime pressed tight to her back, his whispered plans of conquest. Still, it wasn’t a lie, not yet. “Jaime may have his turn down the road.”

Tyrion grabbed her hand, forcing her gaze to settle on him at last. “Do not make promises you have no intention of keeping Brienne.” His voice had a hard quality to it that was off putting, betraying the depth of emotion he was struggling to hide.

“Tyrion, you know I love you, right?” One hand running fingers through his golden curls, the other still clutching his.

“Gods it must be dire…am I dying? I feel just fine…” He forced a laugh, Brienne squeezed his fingers until he flinched.

“Don’t joke Tyrion, I wouldn’t make it without you.It’s just…” She paused and tried to swallow, emotion making her tongue stick to her teeth. “I think I’ve screwed up…am in the process of screwing up as we speak.Promise me I won’t lose you, that even if you are so mad you think you hate me…you’ll talk to me, let me explain.I can’t…” Brienne’s vision blurred, unshed tears gathering under her lashes.

“Oh no B…no, no, no…you’re smearing your makeup!” Yanking his hand free he ran to the kitchen and grabbed a paper towel. “Come here.” He made a waving motion, encouraging her to bend forward so he could dab at the black circles collecting under her eyes. “Brienne Tarth…nothing can convince me you are anything less than magnificent. Whatever it is, I forgive you in advance.” He finished wiping, hand lingering at her cheek. “I love you too Brienne, I always will.”

Her phone chimed. “That’s my ride…talk with me tomorrow?”

“Of course.” He pressed her hand to his lips. “You really are lovely tonight, don’t let Hyle cunt get too fresh.” 

“It’s Hunt not….” She shook her head, grinning in spite of her best attempt to scowl. 

**< ><><><><><>**

Brienne had to admit it, the hospital outdid itself this year.The Greyjoy Aquarium really was the perfect venue for a killer party.The huge circular atrium had a temporary dance floor in the back, food and drink stations scattered around the edges of the space.In the center was a towering statue of a kraken, like some strange old god presiding over the proceedings.

Jaime was waiting inside the entrance, more beautiful than any man had the right to be in day old stubble and the Cersei suit, this time with a dark blue tie that just matched her dress.She wondered if it was made from the same material. _Probably. Fucking Lannisters._

The minute Jaime looked at her, all the time spent fretting over her appearance seemed simultaneously worthwhile and inconsequential. He stared, gaze moving with deliberate slowness over every inch of her long body, settling on her eyes.The look she recently discerned was lust burning its way through her, pink rising from the collar of her dress, flooding her cheeks. _He wants me._ The dress and makeup were nice, they made her feel seductive and powerful and he obviously appreciated the effect, but Jaime would want her regardless. Unable to contain the happiness that realization brought, she took two long steps and pulled him tight in an embrace.

“I should wear a suit every day.” Jaime smiled against her shoulder, she felt him inhale deeply, drawing in the scent, a low purring sound in his throat as he seemed to taste the air around her.She pressed a gentle kiss behind his ear, and he growled louder. “Let me take you home.” He whispered it into her hair.

“Later…first I want to stuff myself on bite sized food, drink too many watered down cocktails, and make every other woman here jealous of this dress.” With one more quick brush of her lips she pulled away, offering him her arm.

The evening was surprisingly fun.Holding the festivities in the aquarium allowed guests to wander through the darkened hallways, the lit tanks of exotic fish setting the mood, shadowed alcoves off each hallway providing a secluded spot for lovers to share a kiss. Breinne had never experienced anything like this, the feel of Jaime’s hand in hers, his rich voice filling the space between them.He took every opportunity to pull her aside and rain feathery kisses on her neck and shoulders, circling around to brush his lips against the exposed skin of her back. 

Early in the evening Hyle Hunt walked by, Jaime snickered under his breath, Brienne meeting his gaze and smiling warmly.Hyle came to a sudden halt as he took in her appearance, a friendly grin and a nod in her direction. “You look lovely Brienne, the dress brings out your eyes.Happy New Year.”His voice was kind, Jaime stiffened at her side.

“Thank you Hyle.Happy New Year to you too.” Brienne was still talking when Jaime started walking away, encouraging her to follow with a slight tug of her arm.“You seem rather jealous of my boyfriend.” She cooed against his collar, Jaime frowned, unamused.

Friends from the hospital acted surprised but happy to see her, Jaime quickly extending his hand and introducing himself as her other half.There were a few raised eyebrows, Brienne realized they were not in response to Jaime’s striking looks, instead questioning the fact that she had never mentioned him.The presence of Jaime in her life was so new and treasured she was scared to name it, afraid to speak of the affair out loud lest it crumble and leave her shattered. 

_Starting tonight I will tell everyone he is mine._

**_< ><><><><><>_ **

Jaime was never so happy. He had Brienne’s undivided attention, his goddess in blue silk, with inhumanly long legs and the biggest, most beautiful, full red lips.He spent the first ten minutes around her crawling out of his skin, desperately trying _not_ to envision all the places and ways he would like to enjoy that mouth. It was obvious to him that she was well liked, people crossing the room to say hello wherever they went, and not just because they were nosy and wanted to see who she was with.Half the time they didn’t notice him, too enchanted by the sight of Brienne out of scrubs,her rich, full laugh making heads turn.

They had circled back around to the atrium, Jaime chuckling to himself as he admired the little violet mark decorating the milky skin of her shoulder blade, placed there during a particularly heated encounter near the seahorses.Brienne humored him, accepting his offer of champagne and sipping as they walked.Halfway through her second glass, the effects starting to show in the rosy glow of her cheeks and glassy eyes.Jaime hoped the alcohol had loosened her inhibitions enough to allow him to dance with her.

She had initially resisted, as adamantly as expected, claiming fatal awkwardness and the inability to look graceful in heels.Eventually her reserve broke under the weight of his pleas, allowing him to pull her tight, one hand cradling hers, the other slinking low, then lower, flush with the curve of her spine before tucking beneath the fabric’s edge.Brienne gave a sexy little gasp as his fingers found the soft flesh of her hip, laying her head on his shoulder and humming with contentment. Jaime balanced his head against hers, heat radiating off her in waves, faint traces of shampoo and citrusy perfume filling his nostrils, he closed his eyes in satisfaction, finally understanding what it felt like to have a mate. Everything about her so _Brienne,_ and he wanted it all.

Two or three slow songs passed this way, the two of them shuffling in a circle, giving minimal attention toward actually dancing, mostly swaying in time, enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies. Without warning Brienne shot to attention, head snapping around, whacking him in the jaw as she turned toward the hand on her shoulder.

“Hello gorgeous…mind if I cut in?” Bronn stood inches away, his approach unnoticed as they both apparently had their eyes closed.

Jaime scowled and opened his mouth, his carefully chosen response still traversing from brain to tongue as he felt a tug at his sleeve.Tyrion was looking up, eyebrows raised and lips pursed in exasperation. “Hyle Hunt I presume?” Before Jaime could respond, his brother grabbed both hands and pulled him away with an awkward tug. “Shall we?”

“You’re joking, right?” Tyrion wrapped his small hands around Jaime’s forearms, nodding and encouraging him to do the the same.

“Don’t be a snob. I know your preference is glamorous blonds, but I’m remarkably light on my feet…it’s the low center of gravity.” Looking like a middle school pairing at their first dance they moved in a rough circle, arms extended and legs stiff, drawing grins from the surrounding crowd.

“Funny story,” Tyrion’s voice was light, but Jaime could feel the undercurrent of annoyance. “I met Mr. Hunt earlier tonight in the bar cue.He was remarkably pleasant..in a dull sort of way…much shorter than expected, and his girlfriend was nowhere to be found.”

Jaime looked over his shoulder at Brienne who seemed to be taking it all in stride, smiling awkwardly and holding a respectable distance as Bronn took Jaime’s spot, arm wrapped around her waist, the exact placement of his hand drawing scrutiny. She laughed and Jaime lit up, little ripples of joy passing through him with each low chuckle.

Returning his gaze to Tyrion he found him similarly transfixed by the sound, staring at Brienne with a broad smile.“She looks good…happy. She doesn’t laugh enough.” They moved in silence for a few steps before his brother spoke again. “Why did you both lie to me?” There was a twinge of hurt in his voice. _He’s upset?_ Picking on his little brother was second nature, barbs and insults a language they both spoke fluently, why would he sound upset?

“Mostly because I didn’t want to hear _it_.” Jaime held his breath, hoping he would be satisfied with the short explanation. They both knew exactly what Jaime was referring to.

“ _It_?” Tyrion’s lips tilted up, a satisfied gleam to his eyes. He was toying with him now.

“You know… _it_.” _Dammit Tyrion, let it go._

“You _owe_ me… _say it_. Out loud. In excruciating detail. Use lots of big words…” The Imp was positively glowing with mirth.

Jaime sighed, _fuck._ “You were _right_ Tyrion. You. Were. Right. Your amazon roommate is breathtakingly wonderful…magnificent…glorious.She’s kind and brilliant, her legs are a work of art, not to mention her ass.Somehow she gets all my jokes, forgives my many shortcomings, is willing to give Cersei and Tywin a chance…yes _really_ …and for some unexplained reason seems to adore both Lannister sons with loyalty that borders on insanity.I have every intention of bedding and possibly wedding her…if she will have me. The lack in judgment agreeing to that arrangement would require her only noticeable flaw. _Is that enough_?” 

Tyrion frowned, coming to a sudden halt.“You haven’t slept with her? You know she’s a…”

“ _YES_ …yes I know.” Jaime started moving again, spinning them in circles with frantic energy. “I bare my soul and you hone in on my lack of deflowering? You see… _THIS_ is exactly why we wanted to keep our relationship a secret. Next thing you’ll start giving me sex advice.”

“Well, I _am_ the more experienced brother.” Tyrion grinned, and Jaime couldn’t stop from grinning and nodding in return. “Seriously…you need to be gentle with her, she’s fragile…and I’m not just talking about the sex part.Brienne carries around a lot of hurt, people have not always been kind.” Tyrion’s voice trailed off as he searched the dance floor for her, concern creasing the skin around his mouth and eyes.

“Fucking idiots.” Jaime fumed at the thought.

“Exactly.” Tyrion’s anger mirrored his, Jaime bit his lip to keep from smiling at the little lion, gripping his arms more tightly as they rocked back and forth.

“You do have condoms?” Jaime sputtered, turning red at the implication.His brother guffawed, drawing more curious looks.

“Gods Tyrion!” Jaime started to pull away, but his brother held on, not finished with the conversation.

“There was another reason for the deception.” Jaime lowered his voice in confession, seeking Tyrion’s forgiveness.“You were _always_ getting the last laugh, so quick to dish it out but never the one to take it.‘Poor dumb Jaime..too stupid to keep up with Cersei and I, good thing he’s pretty.’” The words sounded petty in his mouth, but his brother deserved the truth. “I wanted you to know how it felt to be outside the circle, last person in on the joke…just this once…” He couldn’t meet his stare, all these years and he still felt the need to prove he was smart enough, worthy of their praise.

“You’re a cocky asshole.” There was no venom in the words, his brother had the strange ability to call him names with love, the indemnity of a sibling. “So used to your looks and charm smoothing the way that you don’t appreciate when someone who actually _gives a shit_ about you grants a monumental favor.” Tyrion shook his head back and forth, brows furrowed, a wounded look that Jaime did not understand

“I _trusted you_ with the heart of my best friend, _knowing_ that if you break it she might walk away from us both forever. Do you have any idea how hard that was, the faith necessary to take that leap?I don’t have a surplus of friends Jaime, and this one _I truly love._ You could have lost her…over a _prank_?” Tyrion’s voice cracked.

Jaime blanched, breaking into a sweat as sudden understanding washed over him. “I never thought…I was so sure it would turn out fine, I never once thought you might be afraid of losing Brienne.”His mind flashed back to all the little kindnesses he witnessed between them.Tyrion had been willing to risk her friendship for his happiness. The enormity of the action assaulted him, his words came out in a rush. “I’m sorry Tyrion, it was selfish and reckless, please forgive me.”

They stopped moving, still holding hands. Jaime remembered all the nights spent together grieving Joanna, stroking his little brother’s back, whispering words of comfort until he quieted and slept.

_When did you start taking care of me?_

“She’d pick you over me any day.” It was true, Jaime felt it in his bones. “If I mess this up, if Brienne ends up hating me, she would still love you.”

“It’s okay big brother…it’s okay. Just don’t fuck this up.” Jaime leaned down, and Tyrion stroked his cheek.

The music stopped, Jaime saw Brienne threading her way in their direction, pale blond hair shining above the crowd. “Bronn said to tell you not to wait for him.” She addressed Tyrion, squatting so their faces were level.“He’s chatting up some ginger, thinks he might get lucky.” Leaning forward she kissed Tyrion on the cheek, long fingers tousling his curls. “I told you I screwed up.” Her voice suddenly scratchy, tears gathered in her eyes.

“And I already forgave you, remember?” He cupped her chin, brushing the moisture from her lashes.“You’re messing up your makeup B.” Brienne gave a soft sob, relief at his words breaking through her frayed restraint.

Tyrion twined his fingers with hers, still holding Jaime with the other hand, they walked together to the exit, unconcerned with the strange picture they must paint.“Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year. Be safe out there. Hope your year is full of love and prosperity. As always, I adore comments of any form. Bonus points this week if you can come up with the perfect song for Jaime and Brienne to dance to...or for Jaime and Tyrion.


	8. Grown Up Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He said he was falling in love with me daddy, and I think I’ve fallen too…and I don’t know what to _do_ with that.” Brienne scolded herself for sounding an overgrown child, still needing her father’s help in seeing the right path.
> 
> “What are you afraid of darling?” Brienne felt the teardrops falling against her phone, wanted to reach through the line and grab his fingers. 
> 
> “What if I’m not enough? You know I haven’t …dad I don’t _know_ things like other women do. What if I mess this up.” It was so tiny, the voice inside her head, afraid of anyone else hearing, afraid of her own fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the rating change. If you did not sign up for the "E" rating, never fear, read until the scene break and skip the rest. No major plot points will be missed.

The evening glowed golden in her memory. Jaime’s arm cradling her shoulders as they mingled with her colleagues, his wide hands cupping her hips whenever they stood side by side, a gentle claim that made her squirm. Soft lips and hushed voices, feathery kisses brushed over shoulder blades and collarbones in shadowed alcoves. Swaying in his arms she had banished her insecurities, no longer the hulking, un-bedible girl.For a few stolen moments she had metamorphosed into something uncharted, her gangly legs slipping easily between his, long thin fingers walking the length of his spine in a way that had Jaime sighing and stretching languidly to give her better access to his neck, his waist. He was hers to take, the thought made her giddy.

When Tyrion had interrupted them dancing it had almost been a relief. The emotions Jaime stirred in her too much for the center of a crowd. Brienne was glad for Bronn’s inoffensive embrace, a chance to settle her churning stomach and calm her stuttering pulse.The interlude lasted only moments and was pleasant enough, Bronn could play the gentleman if necessary, telling her how nice she looked, how lovely her dress.The man did seem to delight in pushing her off center and watching her bobble.“You’re an awfully nice person to be a Lannister.” He said it without a smirk, a whiff of admiration in his voice.

Brienne stopped moving, stared at the corners of his mouth waiting for them to turn up in amusement, finally relenting after several moments of anticipation. “I’m not a Lannister.” Feeling her brows furrow, she forced pleasant indifference.

“The fuck you’re not. Tyrion already claims you, and if I’m not mistaken, his golden cunt brother has as well…although he seems to have a whole different take on the claiming in mind.” He waggled his eyebrows, lips parting with a satisfied grin.

It suddenly seemed too much to swallow.For her to consider Tyrion family was one thing, to be openly viewed as an extension of the Lannister clan was another, more daunting, prospect.Excusing herself she headed back in search of Jaime and Tyrion, almost weeping in relief when she saw the brothers holding hands, their faces at ease. The tense, questioning unrest Tyrion had worn for the last month dissipated, and the tightness in the pit of her stomach loosened in reply. Brienne felt the grin spread across her face as her steps quickened in approach.

_My family._

_Oh._ Realization shook her, enough that she turned heel and ran, hiding in the far stall of the women’s lavatory, dialing her father with quick fingers. “Oh gods dad…I think I’m in love.”

“Happy New Year to you too lightning bug.” His full, warm voice filling the scared spaces, making her solid again.He had called her that since childhood, a product of countless evenings spent watching the points of light drift from grass to treetops as the sun sank below the horizon on the Narrow Sea.Selwyn Tarth never found the irony in naming his big daughter after such a tenuous creature, instead he saw the light within her, the joy she brought him. “I suppose it was bound to happen some time. Tell me about them…”

Brienne did not remember her mother, the memory worn down to a vague collection of features reinforced by old photos, the smell of perfume from a dusty bottle. Her father was all she had, and this was a topic they usually avoided with great skill. In her desperation she talked of Jaime, the painstaking way he had drawn her out of her shell, his diligence in proclaiming her special and wanted. Mostly she talked of her feelings.How having _so many feelings_ was terrifying, the dizzy freedom of just being _Brienne,_ unfiltered, whenever they were alone. How she hated and loved the way she went all mushy inside when he looked at her, how she glowed every time he praised her strong body or freckled skin.

“He said he was falling in love with me daddy, and I think I’ve fallen too…and I don’t know what to _do_ with that.” Brienne scolded herself for sounding an overgrown child, still needing her father’s help in seeing the right path.

“What are you afraid of darling?” Brienne felt the teardrops falling against her phone, wanted to reach through the line and grab his fingers.

“What if I’m not enough?You know I haven’t …dad I don’t know _things_ like other women do.What if I mess this up.” It was so tiny, the voice inside her head, afraid of anyone else hearing, afraid of her own fears.

“Brienne…have you told him, have you _shown_ him how you feel? You are a beautiful woman, a brilliant woman. You deserve to take grown up chances, to make the mistakes grown up women sometimes make.” HIs voice was gravelly, full of affection, any embarrassment or judgement he might feel pushed aside. _Gods I am lucky._

“It’s not a mistake dad.” She was sure of it, felt it in her soul.

“Then go ahead and make it.” He chuckled on the other end, the mortification he felt at having this conversation finally peeking through.

“Happy New Year daddy.” She snuffled, smiling loud enough for him to hear it.

**< ><><><><><>**

Jaime had given them a ride home from the party, crammed together in his coupe meant for two, with Brienne in the middle, her leg rubbing against his as he worked the pedals. It felt like the entirety of her pounding heart was focused in that one tiny point of contact, hands sweaty from clenching in an attempt to keep a sliver of dignity and not stroke his thigh in response. Her insides twisted, having resolved to do _something_ with the feelings pulsing through her, she was suddenly, unbelievably, aroused and petrified.

Ever gallant, Jaime walked them to the apartment, gave her a polite kiss on the cheek followed by “I’ll call when I get home.” As he turned to leave, she tugged at his sleeve.

“Stay.” Brienne hardly recognized her own voice, low and husky and almost musical in a way that it never was at work or when she was just hanging out with Tyrion.To make it worse she grasped his lapel in both hands like some needy girl, fingers twisting in the fine fabric and pulling him to her, Jaime’s hot breath tickling her lips.

She saw Tyrion over Jaime’s shoulder, eyebrows disappearing into his hair, a twist to his mouth that was somehow both relieved and mortified.It was one thing to want your best friend to date your brother, another to watch her paw at him with a decidedly “fuck me” look in her eyes. He gave a slight nod, her lips tipped up in reply. _I’m okay, I’ve got this._

Tyrion fumbled with his phone, checking a text and mumbling. “You know, I am unfortunately sober for New Year’s Eve. There is tradition to uphold, pass out or vomit, which will it be this year legs?”Brienne rolled her eyes at him, silent thanks for making her feel less self conscious with his antics. “Maybe the ginger has a sister with a short man fetish, if the gods are good…” He waved a hand in their direction and turned toward the lift, looking once over his shoulder with too sharp eyes. “Take care of my girl brother.”

Brienne’s hands shook as she turned the lock, the apartment was dark, the silvery reflection of Kings Landing shining through the balcony door. Jaime reached to turn on the lights.

“Don’t…please.” She placed her hand over his, stroked his wrist timidly. “Can it be dark?”

Jaime chuckled and leaned into her, lips brushing her temple. “It can be whatever you want Brienne, as much or as little, you tell me.” Fine hairs danced back and forth in his breath, distracting her with little shivers that tickled her scalp, collecting at the base of her skull. 

“I want to be unafraid.” Her voice hitched on the word, wishing she could be less truthful, but failing. “I want to be the person I was earlier…at the party.The one who laughed and flirted and kissed…” Words trailing off, her mind continued. _I want to make love with abandon, not giving a shit whether the sounds coming from my big body are loud and wrong, or whether I look ugly when I scrunch my face up and turn red as I climax. I want you to make me scream, and thrash, and forget to care…_

Circling behind her, Jaime tightened his arms around her waist, firm chest pressing into her back, pausing her breath. “You _are_ that person Brienne…so sexy…so damn sexy.”Slipping his hands beneath her breasts, he started a rhythm that he matched with his hips, hands gently cupping then releasing, rocking against her in time with the patterns his fingers traced in the silk, the stubble of his beard scraping her neck with each shift of weight.

Brienne closed her eyes and let her head fall back against his shoulder, humming in contentment.This was a new dance, different from the one they shared earlier, darker, deeper.Her body shifted to allow him in, groaning and swaying in synchrony with his. It was intoxicating, the way they fit.

“Mmmm” He bit at her earlobe. Pulling it into his mouth and releasing it, again and again. Hands never stilling, hips rolling against the cheeks of her ass, she could feel him hardening. “You can’t hide, even in the dark you glow. All that pale skin in the moonlight, it’s breathtaking.” Brienne stared at her hands, how they cradled his as he stroked the dark material, at her pale, freckled chest arching and heaving beneath his touch. She looked like silver and midnight.

“You liked this before, I made you gasp.” Lips parted he grazed them the length of her neck, teeth catching on her soft skin, a slick, hot path that prickled as he dipped lower, licking at the peak of her shoulder blade, every stroke echoing in her core. Brienne felt the heat pooling between her legs, the drawing need build as her muscles clenched in time with the rolling motions of his tongue.Jaime’s hands drifted higher, thumbs tracing the outline of her hardened nipples. Back and forth, back and forth.

He crashed against her like the surf, a slow grinding of bodies, touching so manyplaces at once that she tumbled with him, crying out at the emptiness when he pulled back, only to roll into her again.

“Jaime…please.” She rubbed her thighs together to smother the ache, shifting restlessly in Jaime’s arms.

“Tell me where to touch you Brienne.” His voice a needy growl, still suckling at the skin of her back, hips pushing into her as his fingers moved higher still, taking one pebbled nipple between his fingers and tugging gently.

“Anywhere…everywhere. Oh gods I need…” _What?_ Her thoughts so clouded that she could not think beyond the incessant throbbing between her thighs and the heaviness that had settled in her breasts with his constant pulling.

Jaime slid his hands from her chest, Brienne grunted, mouth falling open with a silent “Oh” at the loss of contact. Strong fingers dented the flesh of her ribs as they slid along her sides, digging into her hips and yanking her tight against his full arousal before dropping lower. With a quick motion he hiked up her skirt and settled both hands on the firm, round cheeks, pushing her panties aside to stroke the tender skin. 

“I have fantasized about this.” He squeezed at her flesh, hands becoming more urgent as his control slipped away. Brienne felt his hard shaft poking at her through the cloth of his pants and smothered the urge to smash into it, to tear him apart completely. It was a new and powerful feeling, knowing that she could undo him with pleasure at any moment.“How could you doubt…” Jaime was breaking apart, and it left her breathless, that her awkward body elicited this response was absurd.

As if hearing her doubts he pulled her closer, she felt the outline of his cock as it settled between her cheeks, the fabric of his trousers holding him back as he thrust once, twice against her. Jaime stilled, shaking with restraint as he engulfed her in his warm, sure arms, ragged pants cooling the sweat at the base of her neck.Brienne started shaking, falling apart at last.

“Fuck. Brienne…fuck. When I saw you get out of that car and bend over.Oh gods, I was so hard.I barely knew your name and I wanted you.”Brienne laughed, an unchained release at hearing his desire stated so boldly, her head pressed against his shoulder, body curling backwards to soak up his heat. She felt the tension start to coil, muscles deep within her clenching and unclenching as the strength of his need washed over her, her head swimming.

“You won’t be disappointed?” The question fell from her lips and she knew the answer already, heard it in the way he drove against her and groaned her name, the way his mouth tore at her skin leaving bruises in it’s wake.They might not be perfect this time, but they were perfect together. It would only get better, he would be patient, his affection would not fade.

“Never Brienne. You could never disappoint me. I wish you could see yourself as I see you, so strong, so bold. You give so much and expect so little. I don’t deserve you, but I _belong_ with you.” Jaime slipped his arm from around her waist, shifting so that his hand stilled over the place where her thighs met.Brienne went rigid, the heat from his strong fingers so close to her core making her whimper, fueling the relentless pounding between her legs. “Do you want me to…are you close?” Pausing for just a moment before whispering in her ear. “I’ll catch you.”

“Yes.” The word caught in her throat, tongue thick with desire.Jaime slid his hand under her skirt, pressing hard into the nub of flesh at the apex of her opening, she wailed in reply. Grinding two fingers against her, the friction from her underwear added to the sensation as he moved in fast, tight circles, demanding her release. Palming her breast with the other hand, he pinched the budded nipple through her dress, twisting slightly as she cried out in pleasure. Her knees buckled, and he shifted his leg between hers, catching her before she fell.

Brienne was crying out his name, over and over, no longer hearing the words as they left her throat. Strained, garbled sounds of lust filling the apartment as she bucked in his arms. She was almost there. _Almost._ Teetering on the edge as her cunt spasmed and grasped. Flares of pleasure shooting down her legs, up her spine, heat collecting in her jaw. “Oh yes…please yes…yes, yes…” Her whole body tensed as she snatched at her release, shimmering just beyond her fingertips.

“So beautiful.” Jaime whispered the words against her ear, nuzzling with his nose, his lips. “Brienne I wish you could see how beautiful you are right now. How perfect this is. Please sweetheart, let me see you…” The need in his voice was her undoing.

Brienne _screamed_. Hands balling into fists, head flung back in surrender as she quaked in his arms. Jaime’s control broke, his hips rolled against her, matching her ecstasy wave for wave as she clenched beneath his fingertips. Little gasps escaping her lips with each ripple of surrender. Light burned behind her eyelids and she went limp, only the press of his thigh keeping her upright.

After a few lost moments she felt him stroking her hair, mumbling words of praise against fevered skin. “So good…so fucking good. Gods Brienne you are magnificent.” He pressed wet kisses against her ear.She was boneless, breath catching in shallow pants as she felt him lean down and scoop her beneath the knees, lifting her across his arms and heading toward her bedroom.

“Jaime, you can’t…I’m too heavy.” She tried to push away, but her limbs betrayed her, wrapping around his neck instead.

He chuckled, bouncing her once for good measure. “I _can_ , and I _am_.Do not tell me whether I’m strong enough to carry you to bed wench.” Jaime closed the distance to her room in loping strides.

“Wench?” She grinned, liking the sound of it. _His wench._ “You seem to be in a bit of a hurry sir, why the rush?” Brienne pressed her lips together to suppress the giggle, leaning back and craning her neck in an exaggerated attempt to glimpse his trousers.

“ _Don’t!_ Do not even _look_ at it…my grip is tenuous enough, if you stare I am sure to embarrass myself.Not to mention the threat to Tyrion’s floor.” She did laugh at that, a snorting guffaw that shook them both, joy shining in Jaime’s eyes in reply.“Besides, the night is young my lady.” He hooked the door shut with his foot, Brienne squealing in shocked delight as he tossed her toward the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, nothing makes you feel more naked in public than publishing smut (except perhaps truly being naked in public). I will be in hiding for at least the rest of the week, perhaps the month. Please let me know what you thought, what worked and what did not, so I can do it better next time.
> 
> Thank you to Madelyn for editing. Thank you to Ro and Jailynn for holding my hands and forcing me to publish this (that means you Ro). Thank you to Meriwyn for reading and being such a dear person in general. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are my payment, every one is cherished.


	9. Seeing Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Jaime Lannister is carrying me to my bedroom. Jaime Lannister just saw me…oh gods just heard me and felt me…groan and shake and fall to pieces in his arms, and I feel…_
> 
> _Happy?_
> 
> _Relieved?_
> 
> _Ridiculously relaxed to the point that my joints feel unhinged and I can barely muster the energy to stretch, all sweaty and sated and…_
> 
> _Sexy?_
> 
> Brienne was giggling as he tossed her onto the bed, the sound splintering into shaking gasps of joy as she bounced on the mattress. Jaime leaned just inside the door, his own laughter rolling around the bedroom as he loosened his tie, hanging it carelessly on her doorknob. 
> 
> _I hope he leaves it._
> 
> A silky bit of Jaime that she could carry with her, run her fingers over, smell him around her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no plot in this chapter, only sexy times. If that is not your thing, skip to the very last scene. This chapter is for Jailynn who puts up with my crazy on the regular. The title is hers, as is the line it comes from.

_Jaime Lannister is carrying me to my bedroom. Jaime Lannister just saw me…oh gods just heard me and felt me…groan and shake and fall to pieces in his arms, and I feel…_

_Happy?_

_Relieved?_

_Ridiculously relaxed to the point that my joints feel unhinged and I can barely muster the energy to stretch, all sweaty and sated and…_

_Sexy?_

Brienne was giggling as he tossed her onto the bed, the sound splintering into shaking gasps of joy as she bounced on the mattress. Jaime leaned just inside the door, his own laughter rolling around the bedroom as he loosened his tie, hanging it carelessly on her doorknob.

_I hope he leaves it._

A silky bit of Jaime that she could carry with her, run her fingers over, smell him around her neck.

He started unbuttoning his shirt, eyes darkening with lust, the quirk of a smile pulling at his lips, and Brienne found it odd that amusement and want could so easily coexist in his features.The same emotions filled her chest, and she felt ready to explode in either a fit of laughter or a gut wrenching moan, grinning and clenching her thighs.She whined at the tiny release of pleasure before the throbbing started anew.

Jaime pulled off his shirt and threw it over a chair, was working at his belt and kicking off his shoes at the same time, never looking away as she sprawled on the bed, shaking with shallow pants.

Brienne had never seen his bare chest, letting her gaze linger over the firm muscles, the blond fuzz coating him from collarbone to waist before drawing into a line and sinking below his waistband. Her fingers twitched, and she tugged at her lip, suddenly aching to be closer to him, to tangle her hands in the coarse texture. Tongue tracing her teeth as she imagined sucking at the tender skin of his nipples, wondering if he would sigh and sway into her touch.

Jaime saw her expression change, a charge gathering between them as she rose to her knees on the bed, mesmerized by each bit of skin he revealed, and he slowed his pace, deliberately tugging at the fabric of his trousers. It was a strip tease worthy of a professional, and under other circumstances she would have laughed at the smirky pout of his lips, the flutter of lashes over heavy lidded eyes, instead finding her throat dry, swallowing hard as his cock sprung lose and his pants fell to the floor.

_He wants me._

Jaime had been perfectly clear on multiple occasions how, once given the chance, he would worship her with hands and mouth until she fell apart gasping his name.Brienne had huffed, only half joking as she questioned his certainty regarding her enthusiastic response. He had smiled and pulled her close, assured her that making love would come as easily as breathing, that their bodies would snap together as if made for each other, because they were.

Now, with the evidence of his desire presented at eye level, all of her insecurities came charging back. _What if he hates what he sees?_ Once bare she was all broad shoulders and thick waist, too small tits covered in spots. Jaime would never reveal his disappointment, he would follow through on his promise no matter what.That idea terrified her the most, that he would secretly regret fucking her, shame and guilt eating away at him as he made the best of the bed he had made.

“Come now Brienne…are you going to let me stand here naked all by myself?” Jaime’s sultry voice broke through her growing panic, grinning he took a few shuffling steps toward her, kicking off his pants and boxers as he went. “Fair is fair, you’ve seen mine…”

Summoning all her courage she wiggled to the edge of the bed, fingers trembling as she undid the clasp holding her dress in place. Midnight blue silk puddled around her waist to reveal a wide expanse of freckles and milky skin. Brienne couldn’t breathe, searching his face for any subtle shift in expression, waiting for the fire in his eyes to dim once he saw what she had to offer.

_It never happened._

If anything his need seemed to grow, cock twitching as he stared unabashedly at her breasts, his face turned ruddy with want. Brienne felt her embarrassment evaporate under the heat of his stare. _Those eyes,_ so beautiful, like spring leaves and new life, widening to take her in, mouth falling open in a silent _“oh”_ as he reached for her, closing the distance to smooth her hair and stroke her shoulders, his arousal rubbing insolently against the bend of her knee. 

“Gods Brienne…so beautiful.”There was truth, in his _words_ , in his _touch_ , lips finding hers in a soft, insistent press. Brienne wrapped her arms around his waist, and the warmth of him seeped into her, filling her chest and settling lower, she felt fragile in his embrace.Jaime kept kissing, his tongue tracing the fold of her lips, sinking quietly into her mouth to mate with hers.A lazy, wet slide that went on and on, until she was shaking with the feel of him enveloping her, tasting her.

His hands moved to her breasts, cupping them tenderly, thumbs circling her nipples as she whimpered in his mouth. Brienne felt like laughing, like floating, a weight lifted from her shoulders as her soft mounds just filled his palms, not small, not lacking.

Reaching between them she placed a hand over his hardened shaft and he gasped and broke their kiss, eyes dark and glinting as they met hers.Brienne could not stop touching him, and he followed her movements intently as she lightly brushed a finger along his length, around the head, fascinated by the velvet heat of his skin, the damp press against her inner thigh.

“First penis Dr. Tarth?” He grinned, and she blushed, jerking to withdraw her hand before he stopped her, holding her fingertips in place.

“Certainly the most… _amorous_ one that I’ve encountered.” She chuckled, and it sounded low and husky to her ears. Jaime groaned, shifting his weight so that he slid between fingers and thigh. “Besides…I’m not a doctor yet.”

“Five months to go…so close. I can’t wait to see you graduate, my brilliant, magnificent woman.” Brienne cocked her head, wondering if this was normal, if other people laughed, and talked, and made love at the same time.Seeing the adoration in Jaime’s face, reveling in his strong, comforting body that meshed so well with hers, she didn’t care what other people did, this suited them. With an exhale she took his face in both hands, leaned forward to brush her nose against his, gazing into his eyes with all the longing and love that threatened to bubble out of her.

“I love you.” A frightened part of her worried that this was not the right time to say it, but the feeling was too much to contain. She did. Absolutely.

Jaime gave a tiny gasp, drawing her breath into his mouth, and Brienne felt the air crackle with urgency, his need to possess her a tangible thing.Lunging forward he nuzzled her neck, an onslaught of silky curls and full lips, mouthing wet kisses in the dip of her collarbone, the furrow between her breasts. Sucking a nipple between his teeth, he bit gently, drawing her skin taut as he sank to his knees before her.

Brienne jumped and squeaked, back arching to meet him, savoring the pleasant pinch and tug, the heavy fullness that settled in her breasts as Jaime’s mouth slid lower, his words punctuated by feathery kisses against her belly and thighs. “I believe I promised myself…” _kiss_ “…and you…” _kiss_ “…a few things…” _kiss “…_ First look…” Raising his eyes to her chest once more, his strong warm fingers traced a pattern in the tawny dots. “First taste…” 

With that he hooked her thighs and dragged her to the edge of the mattress, tugging off her underwear in one fluid motion before lifting her knees over his shoulders and burrowing his head between her legs, tongue wasting no time parting her folds and sinking into the wet warmth. Jaime groaned with satisfaction as she jerked and bucked, shocked by the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

“Jaime…wait…I’m not..” _Not What? Ready?_ The word died in her throat as she realized with mortification just _how_ ready she was for him, how Jaime must be drowning in the liquid seeping from her core. Brienne’s knees clenched of their own volition, and she felt the vibration of his laughter against her heat, thumbs rubbing soft circles against her thighs as Jaime gently pushed her legs apart, opening her wider. And, _oh gods_ , he was doing wonderful things with his tongue and lips, capturing her slit with one long swipe before setting to work, circling and pulling at her clit in a relentless rhythm, her traitorous hips rising to meet his mouth with each slow roll.

Brienne fell back onto her elbows, unable to look away as his golden head bobbed between her thighs. A strange disconnect settled over her, a surreal feeling of wonder that this was actually happening, that Jaime was happily lapping at her cunt as she whimpered and writhed against him, her hands tugging at his hair, pulling him in, needing more and more.

“Please Jaime… _please_.” She was throbbing, grasping desperately at an emptiness that needed filling. He raised his head to smile at her, droplets of her arousal caught in the stubble of his beard. Brienne shivered, some primitive part of her brain growling at the sight of him covered in her taste, her smell.

Jaime raised an eyebrow, mouth broadening into a grin as he recognized the possessive set of her jaw, the triumph in her stare. “That’s _right_ …I’m _yours_ Brienne, completely yours. Tell me what you need.” He fixed his eyes on hers, glassy with want, as he tentatively slid one, then two fingers inside her, pausing a moment before slipping them out and in again, dragging along the muscled wall as she whined with release.Brienne teetered then broke, the stretch of his fingers freeing the coiled tension that had been building inside her since they entered the room.

“Fuck…fuck, _oh fuck_ …” Brienne flung her shoulders into the mattress, grinding against his hand as she surrendered to the climax that crashed over her in a slow rolling wave. Legs straightening against his shoulders, back bowed, she grasped blindly for his free hand, their fingers tangling against the sheets. “Jaime, Jaime… _Jaime._ ” Chanting his name, each breathy call he answered.

“Yes, love…I’m here…wonderful…so wonderful…” Kissing his way back up her body until they were once again face to face.

Brienne was panting, still trembling from the force of her release as Jaime brushed wet strands from her cheeks, leaning his forehead against hers he smiled rather smugly. “I believe that counts as screaming my name…over and over and over…” She giggled and whacked his bum, stopping suddenly at the choked sound he made as his arousal bounced against her thigh. He braced himself over her, breathing in slowly, the desperate effort it took to control his reaction made her insides squirm, a dull ache rekindled between her thighs.

Jaime held rigid as she stretched forward, brushing her lips to the corner of his mouth, the edge of his jaw, “…sorry…sorry…” pressed into his skin with every touch. Carefully she slid from beneath him, avoiding his throbbing cock as she wriggled out of the dress bunched around her waist and scooted to the head of the bed.He continued to take deep breaths, frowning at the pattern of her duvet cover as he wrestled to contain his lust.

“My wallet…in my jacket pocket.Do you think you could…” He closed his eyes and sighed, frustration twisting into amusement, he chuckled.Mirth deepened the lines around his eyes as he met Brienne’s gaze, green sparkling in the low light.“I need a condom, but the application might pose a challenge.” Without thinking her attention drifted to his arousal, full and erect, the slick pink tip pointing right at her, and for the briefest instant she imagined wrapping her lips around it, how the fevered skin would feel under her tongue, how his cum would taste. She bit her lip in response. Jaime snorted, drawing her attention, and Brienne felt the blood rise in her cheeks. “ _That_ is not helping.”

“If you really want a condom there’s a box in my bedside table.” Jaime’s mouth fell open at that, huffing with amusement. “But you don’t have to…I mean you haven’t exactly been…active, and you know my story, so…” Brienne’s voice drifted to a whisper, dropping her head to her chest she curled into a ball against the headboard, the awkward, shy girl surfacing once more.

“Brienne… _you_ bought condoms?” Chewing furiously on her lip she nodded, a pained expression on her face. “But we don’t _need_ to use them… _because_ …” He waited, giving her space to find her voice.

_Oh gods, we are having this conversation._

“I went on birth control.” Brienne rocked back and forth, wondering if she could burrow beneath the covers before Jaime caught her. “After _that talk_ in your office. I thought that maybe it would be nice…” _oh, damn_ “…that maybe I would like to feel you, _just you,_ the first time, with nothing between us. So…I went on birth control.” She shrugged, feeling somehow more naked at the admission.

Brienne waited with her head down, heard the bed creak as crawled in her direction, not looking up until he was right beside her, lifting her chin and staring into her eyes. “You went on birth control because you _want_ me.” She nodded, a frail whimper escaping her pressed lips. “You want to feel me moving inside you, _flesh against flesh_ , nothing separating us.” Jaime leaned closer, his hot breath blowing across her mouth, she could smell her scent on his skin.

“ _Yes._ ” She exhaled the word, feeling terrified and powerful at claiming this experience for her own.“Yes, _that_ is what I want.”

_“Fuck!”_ His lips crashed against hers as he grabbed her shoulders, rolling her over his body before pinning her to the center of the bed. Jaime growled low in his throat, finally surrendering to the want he had been fighting to control all night. There was no grace to his movements, using his knee to push hers apart he settled his hips between her thighs, all the while tearing at her lips with his teeth, sinking his tongue deep into her mouth with strong, deliberate strokes. Brienne could only hold on, riding the wave of his desire as she felt his cock nudging at the heat between her legs, as he slipped a hand between them and thrust two fingers into her depths. “…hot…tight…” Gasping for breath, he whispered words against her lips, before claiming her tongue once more.

Brienne felt the echo of her earlier climax, a reverberating hum that stirred her core, the stretch and slide of his fingers coaxing it back to life.Her body knew what it craved now, slick and gripping his hand after only a few thrusts, she moaned his name, reached between them, wrapping her fingers around his rigid arousal.

Jaime went still, letting Brienne guide him to her opening, waiting until she gripped his hips and urged him into her, parting the damp curls as her thighs lifted off the bed to meet him.Brienne was trembling as Jaime hovered just inside her entrance, and _oh gods this feels good_ she swayed in little circles, rubbing against him and panting as his cock brushed her folds. She was ready, _so ready_ , whimpering his name as he tangled a hand in her hair, he leaned down to press a warm kiss to her mouth and thrust deeply, sinking with ease into her wet core.

Brienne flinched, it was tight, _too tight_ , an uncomfortable throb where there had been only empty aching. Jaime smoothed her hair, resting his head against hers, eyes soft and liquid, they coaxed her back to him. “You feel so good, _gods you’re perfect_ …Brienne, look at me love, relax… _relax_ …” He kept one hand on her hair, her cheek, brushing and stroking as he slipped the other between them, finding the spot where their bodies joined, grinding against the sensitive flesh until she released a ragged sigh, clenching with the first stir of surrender.

“ _Jaime_ ” she cried out his name as he began to move inside her. Full, thick strokes that shook her and made her quake for more. _I’m his._ It settled in her chest, heavy and secure, a molten mass that flowed outward, filling her limbs, the pound of his body against hers like the throbbing of a heart. _I’m his, I’m his, I’m his._

Her face was wet, fat drops slipping unnoticed from the corners of her eyes, Jaime rubbed his cheek against them, drew at her lashes with open mouthed kisses.He was beyond speaking, release nipping at his heels as he rushed forward trying to please her first. He lifted her knees, and she instinctively canted her hips, letting him slip deeper into her with each frantic thrust, finding a spot that made her whimper, the pressure building with each crash of their bodies.

Something inside Brienne broke free, like ice splintering from a glacier or the tumble of rocks into the sea, a wave bursting forth and growing as it spread, her inhibitions fell away, and she was thrown forward by the force of her growing want.“Jaime _please_ …Jaime I _need_ …” She clawed at him, dull nails pressing into the skin of his back, his thighs. Biting and sucking at his pulse, feeling the thrum of his heart against her lips, her tongue, it raced in time with hers.

Jaime was pounding into her now, the air filled with guttural sounds as he moaned and growled his way to climax, the slick slap of their bodies almost hypnotic as he filled her to bursting again and again. Her body clenched around him, squeezing his cock so hard that Jaime cried out in joy, wisps of pleasure coiling in her stomach, reaching out to fill her chest, her legs, she stretched and squirmed beneath him. _So close, so close_. “Jaime I’m…oh gods I’m going to…” 

He shifted his hips, ducked lower and rolled into her with a grinding motion that stroked her entire slit as he buried his shaft inside her. Brienne shattered, her cunt squeezing until she saw white behind her eyelids, until she arched off the bed and pressed her mouth against his shoulder, screaming her surrender into his salty skin.

_“Fuck.”_ Jaime mumbled the word, rutting against her as she shook around him, his movements broken and rushed, unencumbered now that she had found her release.She felt him swell and twitch, pressing against her tightness for one suspended moment before crying out her name, warmth spilling into her, overflowing and puddling between her legs.

He fell against her, heavy and soaked, her body curling around him as sticky skin weighted her to the mattress, both too sated to move.Brienne ran her hand up and down his spine, long soothing strokes as she puffed against his ear.

“Was that okay?” _Okay?_ She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, lips twitching with mischief, having clearly appreciated just how _okay_ it had been for her.

She grinned back.“It was _alright_ , for a first go at it. I think we can do better.” He snorted, reached beneath to pinch her ass and make her yelp.

“You unfortunately picked an older man.” She tutted, pushed the silver streaked hairs behind his ears, fingered the nape of his neck. “Any better and I might die from pleasure.”He paused, letting his lips linger beneath her jaw, nipping at her earlobe. “ _Fucking hells wench_ , you made me see stars.” And suddenly he was laughing, a low rumble that grew in force, she found herself joining in, the sound quivering through her, something magical in the aftermath of their release that left her giddy, playful. She did not expect this feeling, that there could be no worry, no second-guessing, only bliss.

“Then I will take extra care to keep you healthy and warming my bed for years to come.” He smiled at her with his eyes like spring, face crinkling in all the right spots, so beautiful that she felt like weeping. 

_Yes. I will take extra care of you._

“I suppose you will, Dr. Tarth.” He nuzzled her neck, brushing feathery kisses along her brow, the bridge of her nose, before whispering. “Would you like to get under the covers?”

**< ><><><><><><>**

Brienne woke in the dark with Jaime curled around her, the solid warmth of him at her back, palm flush, damp against her stomach, and _oh_ , he was hard, squirming against her backside as he trailed wet kisses down her spine, as his knees pressed insistently against hers and his toes slid up and down her calf. “Brienne…” it was a mumble of want, a question, as his legs parted hers, as his arm guided her hip to raise and let him in, and _of course_ he could, and _yes_ she wanted as he slid easily into her waiting heat. And this was different, and the angle was new, as he thrust gently, shallow pulses that bumped into places never touched before, sending little spirals of heat into her belly, her chest. Her fist balled in the sheets, her leg tightened around his thigh, and before long she was huffing in little pants, and oh, and _oh_ , and …yes..yes… _“Yes!”_ She cried out as her body tumbled tight around him, shaking and grasping, her head coming to rest against his forehead, the little hairs at the base of her neck billowed by his breath.And Jaime was lost, groaning and mouthing needy sounds against her shoulder as his movements broke down, as he clenched her hip and ground against her, and his warm release spread and blossomed inside her, she hummed as it filled her.His hand stroked her side, his lips still pressed to her back, now mumbling soft words of praise against her slick skin _…so good, so good…_ as her eyes drifted closed, and she fell asleep smiling, her hand over his.

There was sunshine pouring in the window, this time waking to find herself half atop Jaime, his face pressed into the pillow, her leg draped over his backside and her mouth squished flat to his shoulder, a small puddle of drool collecting under her open lips. She smiled against his skin, and he started to chuckle, realizing that she was finally awake.

“You seem to have tried to climb me in your sleep, but only made it halfway.” His words were slurred into the pillow as he reached behind to gently pat her ass.She rolled off with a groan, bits of her that she usually paid no mind to surprisingly sore as she flopped onto her back, and he slid an arm around her, tucking her close. 

“Are you okay?” The tenderness of his voice startled her, and she turned to stare into those emerald eyes, wondering if she would ever fail to catch her breath at the sight of them. “There’s blood on the covers…I worried…” Jaime’s voice trailed off, but she saw the need in his face, the fear.

“I’m fine…it was wonderful.” She shifted to face him, cupping his cheek with one hand, the other tangling in the soft hairs over his heart, soothing his worry with soft brushes of fingers on his lips, his chest.“So much better than anything I had imagined. It’s just a little blood, probably a torn hymen, it doesn’t mean anything.You didn’t _hurt_ me Jaime.” She blushed, realizing after she said it how weird she must sound, assigning a diagnosis to the aftermath of their lovemaking.

Brienne hated her craven heart, how hard it still was to let him in, retreating to the comfortable topic of bodies and hurt, when Jaime was really asking _“Do you regret what we have done, what you have given me?”_ And she should have told him how glad she was that he was her first, that she could not imagine letting another person touch her the way he had, that the part of herself she had given so freely had somehow always belonged to him. But she was afraid, and Jamie would understand.

He searched her face, reading the answers she was unable to say, before wrapping her in his arms and clenching her to his chest. “Yes Dr. Tarth, thank you for the anatomy lesson.” He slid a hand to cup her backside, dragging her against his hip as he spoke into her crown of hair. “Maybe you could give me another one later.”

Brienne blushed, instantly awash in the memory of all the places and _ways_ he had touched her, all the spots he had kissed…and licked… her heart fluttered and heat settled low in her gut. “I’m not sure there’s much anatomy left to explore.” She covered her face with her hand, Jaime guffawed in reply, pushing her fingers away to reach her lips.

He brushed the hair out of her face and kissed her slowly, deeply, his mouth soft and open, letting her explore with her tongue, in no rush, with no destination.Each breath shared, a gentle sway in and out, eyes never breaking from hers. Somehow this moment was the most intimate of all, as if she could see his soul peeking up at hers and smiling. “I love you.” He whispered it, wet and sloppy against her lips, and she couldn’t reply, so she gave a tiny sob and nodded, her tears bouncing against his cheeks.

**< ><><><><><>**

Jaime could not stop grinning. He was aware how idiotic he must look, and yet he had grinned through the shower with Brienne, taking his sweet damn time soaping up her muscled shoulders and glorious ass, delighting in the discovery of a ticklish spot right above the crest of her hipbones. He had grinned as she dug out a ratty old pair of sweatpants and a college T shirt that smelled like her, nearly swooning at the way they fit him perfectly. He had even grinned his way through disassembling her bed (it really was a disaster) grabbing the basket of linens and heading for the washing machine tucked into a closet near the kitchen.

He was so engrossed in being obnoxiously, irritatingly happy that he failed to notice the smell of bacon, and coffee, and…

_Fuck_

Tyrion was at the stove, standing on the extra long stool Brienne bought specifically for this purpose, spatula in hand and wearing the world’s largest pair of headphones. Worse, he was staring right at him, eyebrows creeping ever so slowly toward his hairline as his mouth split in a self satisfied grin, taking note of what he was wearing, what he was carrying.

_Shit, I am so screwed._

“GOOD MORNING BIG BROTHER!” Tyrion bellowed a greeting that could be heard in the lobby. 

Jaime rolled his eyes and tapped his ear, Tyrion frowned for an instant before realizing his blunder, slipping the headphones around his neck. “Noise cancelling.” He waggled his eyebrows at Jaime, before breaking into a snorting laugh. “Because there is not enough gold under the fucking Rock to make me listen to…”

“Alright Tyrion, you have made your point.” Jaime headed to the washer as his brother continued laughing.

“You killed the sheets?” Tyrion glanced over his shoulder, scrunching his nose as Jaime kept pulling pieces of linen from the basket, silently cursing the gods for his poor timing, praying that his little brother would tire quickly of this game.No such luck. “And the duvet…oh gods, _not_ the duvet.” Tyrion grabbed his chest in mock dismay, eyes widening in false horror. “What else did you ruin…did I need to wipe the counters first?”

Jaime turned away, a guilty look on his face.He had considered it…did that count?

“Oh, _fuck you_. This is marble imported from Tarth you animal.” Tyrion started laughing, and Jaime felt his lips twitch in reply, he had missed the banter between them, he missed his brother.

“All the best imports are from Tarth.” Tyrion snorted, nodding his agreement as Jaime snuck behind him, cuffing his head and snatching a piece of half-cooked bacon from the pan.Tyrion swatted at his fingers. “But no joking about this. She’s above that.”

“On that we can agree.” Tyrion met his eyes, and there was no jest now, forehead folding with the start of a frown. “She’s good right?”

Jaime stared at his bacon. He was grinning again, that stupid one he had worn all morning, this time accompanied by a blush. It must be catching. “I think she crawled back in bed for a nap.” Tyrion’s eyes widened, Jaime could see him fighting the urge to comment, mirth filling his mouth as he bit his tongue, swallowed it down.“Yes, she’s good…better than good.” He thought of Brienne as he just left her, sapphire eyes sparkling with joy in the morning light, hair stuck to her neck,splotchy and red from the heat of the water and the ardor of his touches. “She’s happy Tyrion, really happy.”He put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, making sure to look him square in the eye as he spoke. “I love her too.”

“You better.” He had never seen Tyrion argue a case, he imagined it looked something like this. All the humor drained out, the threat of repercussion in those too clever eyes.

“And…we’re good too?” Jaime shifted his hand to Tyrion’s head, sliding over his curls, a vestige of comfort from the years spent as surrogate father to his fragile baby brother.

“Yes. Jaime we’re good.” Tyrion smiled, went back to quietly cooking breakfast.

_No little brother, we are better than good, finally._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me your thoughts, which lines worked and what didn't. Comments are so appreciated. I'm still learning this writing thing, especially the smut. And I still find publishing it fairly mortifying. Thank you to Ro, Madelyn, and Jailynn for helping me so much with this chapter, you all are wonderful.


	10. Ready Wench?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am I so different from the person I was? The answer, for better or worse, was a resounding yes. That fact scared her most of all. Falling for Jaime had not been the slow slide she expected, a swirling together of lives that occurs so quietly as to be unnoticeable, until one day you wake up with a joint apartment lease and a cat. Their relationship was more hostile takeover, a strategic strike resulting in loss of territory on both sides. One day she was terminally single, happy with a best friend and a career, the next Jaime Lannister had claimed a large chunk of her heart and the left side of her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluffy ending I promised. Enjoy.

The day after was odd in its normalcy.All three settling in the living room to watch old movies, celebrating the new year as a strange little family unit. Tyrion snickered every time she yawned and fell asleep on Jaime’s lap. Brienne was fairly sure there were scorching glances sent her roommate’s direction for every raised eyebrow. Everything considered, both men were well behaved and shockingly blasé about what she considered a life altering turn of events. Jaime stayed as long as he could, tearing himself away late afternoon, dreading the post-holiday work load.

She sat on the sofa, clutching a throw and a book worn from dragging it around half finished. And sat. And sat.

“New interest in the culinary sciences?”

“Humm?” Her head popped up, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“You’ve been looking at that scrub-free pan informercial for 25 minutes. I just wondered.” Tyrion was standing at the stove, eyebrows raised as he attempted to stare the pasta into boiling.

“No…I…” Brienne was shaking. _When did I start shaking?_ “…I slept with your brother.”The words fell out, and now her chin matched her hands, trembling until her teeth chattered.

Something in her expression spurred Tyrion into action, abandoning supper and taking her large hands in his.“Hey B…what’s going on in that big brain of yours?” He stroked her hair, pushing it off her forehead, brushing away tears she hadn’t realized were falling.

Brienne met his eyes. “I. Slept. With. Your. Brother.” Panic bubbled in the back of her throat, the sound too loud, too sharp.

“I figured that out on my own, clever chap that I am.” He was rubbing her hands now, long slow swipes of his thumbs across her knuckles, steadying motions used to soothe a wounded animal. “From what I could tell that went well… _yes_? You both seem disgustingly happy.” He wasn’t poking fun, Tyrion filled with a gentleness reserved for her and his brother.

“It was _good_.” The word so heavy it was embarrassing, she saw him bite back the quick retort, visibly swallowing his urge to tease. 

“Why the tears?” He tried to push the truth out of her. “And don’t tell me it’s regret. I know you Brienne Tarth… _you are happy_ …more happy than I have ever seen you.More than even I hoped for. ” He left it unsaid that his hopes for her were outrageous, that they towered over his own ambitions for love and companionship. But she knew.

“I’m afraid.” The shaking started again, tears swaying on the tip of her chin, voice lowered to a quivering whisper. “What if I fuck this up?” Her breath shot out like a steam valve released, she smothered a whimper with her palm.

Tyrion crawled onto the couch, pulling at her large frame until she settled her cheek against his knee. He scraped his fingers across her scalp and Brienne sighed, shutting her eyes. “I am confident stating that—if one of you is destined to fuck this up—it will be my brother.” She huffed in indignation. “Really B…you don’t have a mean or insincere bone in your body.Lannisters are born fickle and callus—he’s the sure bet.”

“I’ve been mean to you. I _lied_ to you.” A soft confession, muffled by the material of his trousers.

“ _Yes_ —you lied. _Yes_ —I was hurt.” She rose to sit, to pour out the reasons for keeping the truth of her and Jaime from him— _not_ for the first time—usually when she was tipsy and sad. “And I forgave you.” He coaxed her down, rubbing her shoulders, the top of her spine, pressing the regret from tensed muscles. “Gods Brienne, one screw up does not make you a bad person…a bad friend.It makes you human, like the rest of us. ”

“He’s sincere with me.” Brienne whispered her protest, defending Jaime already a part of her being. “He’s the kindest man I know…present company excluded.”

Tyrion broke into laughter, her head bounced against his thigh. “That proves my point. You bring out the good in us, like some mythical lion charmer. We are our best with you.”He paused, Brienne felt him turn thoughtful, the space between them crackled with it. “People don’t like me B, they never have…and not because I’m different. It has never been my stature that drove away friendship. I hide behind flippancy…sarcasm and judgement. _The Imp_.” She wanted to wrap her big arms around him, put him back together— _better_ this time—shelter him from the world. “You are the first person other than Jaime to see beyond that. All that strength and righteous fury, you stormed past my guard before I could sound the alarm.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” She shivered. Small. Exposed.

He leaned down, kissed behind her ear, soft hairs brushed against her cheek. “You will _never_ lose me Brienne Tarth. _Even_ if this blows up in our faces, whether you and Jaime go up in flames—or _worse_ —fizzle out and never speak again. I will be here…hold your hand…pick up the bloody bits of your heart and we will glue them in place. _Do you hear me?_ ”

She nodded, too relieved to speak.

**< ><><><><><>**

_Tyrion:_ we on 2NTE? I’ll bring beer

_Brienne:_ UR a jackass. CU @ 6

_Tyrion:_ jackass? new nickname?? WTF B

_Brienne:_ bball is sacred y would I miss?

_Tyrion:_ u have a new beau

_Brienne:_ beau? SRSLY T?

_Tyrion:_ golden lion? prisoner to your desires? sparring partner? ;)

_Brienne:_ gods STFU

_Tyrion:_ K CU @6

Basketball _was_ sacred.At least it had been, ever since she moved into Tyrion’s apartment and settled herself in his life. The college playoffs were _their_ time, an excuse to lie around on his oversized leather couches, eat junk food and drink too much.The betting started small—who would take out the trash for a week—growing more cumbersome as the brackets shrank.Last year Brienne ended up washing and folding Tyrion’s laundry for three months because she bet on a Dornish team with a forward built like a Dothraki, complete with long flowing braid.Tyrion had called him her boyfriend the bloodrider for weeks, offering to send him her picture. 

His questioning whether she was going to show up—even if it was only a stupid text—hurt her heart. _Am I so different from the person I was?_ The answer, for better or worse, was a resounding _yes._ That fact scared her most of all. Falling for Jaime had not been the slow slide she expected, a swirling together of lives that occurs so quietly as to be unnoticeable, until one day you wake up with a joint apartment lease and a cat. Their relationship was more hostile takeover, a strategic strike resulting in loss of territory on both sides.One day she was terminally single, happy with a best friend and a career, the next Jaime Lannister had claimed a large chunk of her heart and the left side of her bed.It was disorienting—staggering—left her breathless and wondering if she would ever get her feet back under her properly.

_Four months. How in seven hells has it only been four months?_

And now the weight of her future was pressing on her shoulders, medical school almost over and the real world of residency fast approaching.Two weeks until Match Day, when she would find out where she would spend the next five years of her life.She had completed the interviews, made her choices last summer, when Jaime was only a name that Tyrion kept throwing around.Someone unreal, unimaginable, not the flesh and blood anchor firmly attached to her happiness.

_What if I don’t match in King’s Landing?_

Her first choice had been a university in the Stormlands. An acceptable program, a good name, located closer to home—to Selwyn.He was getting older, she could watch over him.Her academic record was perfect, she _would_ get her first choice. The gods had a funny sense of humor, placing the life she wished for in her hands, only after showing her how unimaginative her wishes had been.Dreams of her perfectly plotted career now plagued her, waking up in a cold sweat, fingers clutching the imaginary envelope that would tear her away from Jaime, away from Tyrion and the peace she had found.

_This is what you wanted—before—before._

The thought choked her, so she sat. Staring at the game in quiet desperation, the clock on the screen a reminder of her days ticking down, she struggled to swallow the drowning swell of emotions that rose every time she pictured her future.Tyrion knew something was wrong, kept glancing at her hands, twisted white knuckled around a cushion, neck muscles bulging as she ground her teeth. He watched and waited, hoping she would crack first, his frustration getting the better of him.

“You going to tell me what’s wrong or sit there punishing that pillow for the entire night?”He tipped his head back and emptied a beer, clunking the bottle down with annoyance. “I might as well watch alone.”

“I think I’ve screwed up.” Her lips tipped up despite her melancholy, the release of pressure spreading the cracks in her resolve.Tyrion pried the pillow from her hands, placed them flush on her lap, his small fingers spread over hers.

“It’s been known to happen.” He grinned, and it felt like melting, knowing that he would carry this weight with her. “You haven’t been yourself for weeks legs…and I’m not counting the annoyingly loud sex and frequent PDA with my brother as odd. Not after _your_ dry spell…”

“Gods Tyrion…you are an ass.” She yanked her hands back, whacking him behind the head. Guffawing he rolled, head landing in her lap.

“Tell me B…it can’t be that bad.” He looked up with kind eyes, crinkled and warm like Jaime. She wondered why no one else saw it.

“Match day is in two weeks, and I’m regretting my choice.What if I have to move away…from _Jaime_ …from _you_? What I wanted before…it’s not what I want now.” Some of the fear abated with speaking the words.

_This is more important._

“Well, if I know you—and I _do_ —you have already devised an escape route.” She nodded, he echoed the movement. “Spill it…”

“There is an opening in the M.D./PhD program…one of the applicants pulled out last minute.It would mean three more years of school, hours in a lab doing bench work…more time for Jaime.” Tyrion rolled his eyes dramatically, she hardly blamed him. Her smitten state was rather ridiculous, she felt the pink rising from collar to cheeks. “But it would look excellent on my record, open _every_ door. I could pick my residency program, get a job in academics.”

“Which means you can stay in King’s Landing…split your time teaching and working.More time for Jaime…” He was grinning now, gesturing excitedly as her plan became clear. “Have you told him?”

“N-no…no…” Her lip trembled again, the fear gathering strength, a tight feeling that started in her center and moved toward her throat.Tyrion went still, raised his eyebrows in question. “I am considering making drastic changes to my career…my future…for Jaime. _Every_ _day_ I have worked to get where I am _right now_ … _this-very-spot._ ” She poked at the couch cushions for emphasis, wondering which of them she was trying to convince. “Never goofing, never taking it easy.I should decide what is right for me… _just me._ Not change everything on a whim, wishing for a future that might never happen.”

“He bought you a ring.” Tyrion muttered it, not meeting her eyes. A secret he was _definitely_ not supposed to share.

“Excuse me?” She wrapped a strong hand around his chest, shaking him into speaking.

“You are the most self-depreciating, oblivious, obstinate person I have ever known. _Future that might never happen_ …gods the drama.He bought you a _fucking_ _ring_ …Lannister sized I might add.” Sitting quickly he grabbed his phone, opened to a photo and dropped it in her lap. Brienne stared at the screen. “He is mad about you. _Helplessly, insanely_ in love with you. And _you know it_.” He swung his hands in jerking motions, irritation bordering on anger, voice clipped with emotion. “If you choose to run away to fulfill some misplaced notion of autonomy—and by the gods it would be _your fucking choice_ to run—you are stupid.”

_He bought me a ring._

Brienne’seyes watered as she stared at the screen, running the tip of her finger around the gold band, imagining the feel of cool metal against her skin.“When…?”

“Jaime bought it weeks ago, said he was waiting until _you_ were ready. He’s going to propose Match Day, after he learns where _he_ will be spending the next five years.” She raised her head, meeting his too clever eyes, grown misty like hers. “He will follow you B…to the ends of the world.”

_He will follow me—away from you._

Tyrion’s face held only joy, revealing none of the emptiness he would feel if they both moved away—but he _would_ feel it.Brienne took his face in both hands, kissed his frowning forehead. “I’m going to take the M.D./PhD slot. I’ll withdraw my name from the match tomorrow.”She checked her emotions—searching for regret—wondering if she would feel compromised in a way that was uncomfortable or disappointing.She didn’t.

“Brienne…are you saying that you will be my brother’s wife?” He took her hand in his, pressed her knuckles to his lips. The mischief once again pooling in his eyes, furrowing his cheeks.

“I would be delighted to marry your brother.” He hiccuped with laughter, placing sloppy kisses on the back of her hand, trailing up her arm, landing on her cheek.She laughed in reply, low and throaty, rumbling through the apartment, it drowned out the game. “Just…don’t tell Jaime I said yes to you first.”

“May I call you sister?” There was something fragile in his eyes.

“You could always call me sister Tyrion.” She rumpled his hair, unfolding from the couch. “Now where is that beer?”

**< ><><><><><>**

_I might have a nervous breakdown._

It was silly really. He had sailed through the past year buoyed on a crest of love and excitement, never once questioning the decisions he and Brienne made, the changes to his life. But now he met the unmoving wall of Tywin Lannister, and the daunting task of surviving a wedding in the den of the lion.He tried again to remember which of them came up with the idea of marrying by the koi pond where they met, exactly one year later. _It’s all so fucking romantic._ Except for the fact that it necessitated the involvement of his father, and his sister with her newfound compulsion to help. Add to that Tyrion, who had inserted himself in their plans from the start, and you end up with a shit load of Lannisters, all intent on making this the best damn wedding ever.

Brienne _—quiet—reserved—thoughtful—_ Brienne.He should have known all along there was a lioness lurking under her skin, just waiting for the right words—the right touch—to stir it to life.She had thrown herself into their relationship like a skydiver without a chute, all forward motion, no fall back plan. It was shocking—liberating—and on particularly vulnerable nights he lay awake terrified of the responsibility of her trust. Then she would roll over, wrap a firm arm around his waist and yank him close, and all his concerns would evaporate in the heat of her embrace.

She accepted his proposal without batting an eye—tears of joy didn’t count.He wondered if Tyrion tipped her off, an accusation his brother stolidly denied, a twinkle of delight in his eyes at the asking. Jaime shook his head, _my tiny master of whispers_ , he knew when he was beaten.

_Two months into their engagement, on taco Tuesday over a cheap bottle of red, Brienne announced “I quit taking birth control two days ago. I would like…if you want to…” Jaime inhaled a jalapeño, spent the next ten minutes snotting and sputtering into a napkin, Brienne pounding him solidly on the back. When he finally caught his breath he grabbed her so soundly that she grunted, threw her on the sofa and showed her just how much he enjoyed that revelation._

_The tacos were cold and a second bottle cracked as they cuddled on the living room floor under a blanket, Brienne struggling to explain her thoughts. “I’ve bought us three years…three_ relatively _easy years. After that I start internship, then residency, and there will be so little time.”She gripped his hand, unable to meet his eyes. Jaime stroked her thumb with his, took a calming breath and she instinctively breathed in time, finding strength in their symmetry. “I know it sounds selfish to have a baby when my days will be stretched already. But you’re forty…” He cringed, and she rubbed her nose to his, assuaging his worry with a wide, open smile. “It will be eight years before I finish my training and have a steady job, and we_ could _wait…but I don’t want to.” She slid her mouth to his, tugged at his smiling lips with her teeth. “This isn’t a whim, I’ve thought it all through…”_

_“When?” She jolted at the suddenness of his question, barely contained enthusiasm starting to boil beneath his skin._ Brienne wants a baby.Oh gods, Brienne wants to have my baby.

_“Ummm…now?”_ Now. She wants a baby now. _The ridiculous joy of it cracked his resolve, he laughed hysterically._

_“You want a baby_ now _…no_ wedding _…no_ house _?” She nodded, her brows meeting in stubborn determination as he nipped at her neck. “Some people would call that backward.”_

_“Well, some people don’t have_ you _.” He grinned wider at that. “And those same people don’t have my future weighing on their minds.A-and I have Tyrion, and my father—who by the way is not getting any younger—a-and…” Jaime put a finger over her lips, silencing her worry. He really could not agree more._

_“So when you say_ now _…do you mean_ now _now?” His hands drifted lower, suddenly remembering their clothes in a pile near the kitchen._

_Brienne turned violet-red, a raucous shade he had never appreciated before, she covered her face with both hands. “I’m_ sorry _…it was a rash decision…I should never have assumed…” Jaime thought he might explode with anticipatory delight._

_“Soooo…_ technically _…you could be pregnant right now?” He pulled her hands away from her face, pressing her into the carpet and sliding slowly up her body. She trembled at the feel of his skin on hers, then nodded. “Well, we shouldn’t leave anything to chance.”_

_She giggled, looking young and light. “That would be irresponsible.”_

_“Heavens forbid you act irresponsibly Brienne Tarth.” He set about making sure now_ _meant_ now _._

Six months later he stood at Tyrion’s precious marble countertop, drinking his second cup of coffee and waiting for his slightly pregnant fiancee and brother to return from their early morning run to theflorist and dry cleaners. Tyrion burst exuberantly through the door with a box of boutonnières, Breinne trailing behind with his “Cersei suit” freshly pressed.She walked straight to his mug and stole a sip, pausing to inhale the aroma first, swirling the liquid deliberately around in her mouth. He covered the top, frowned. “How many?”

She huffed, plopped down on a bar stool. “Only one…and a half. Tyrion cut me off.”

“You’re welcome.” Tyrion’s voice came from inside the refrigerator as he stowed the flowers. “She’s a beast with only one cup…I was truly afraid for a moment…” He grinned over his shoulder. “…but I bribed them with doughnuts.” Walking to Brienne, he leaned close to her belly, whispering conspiratorially. “Who’s the best uncle ever?” Kissing her midsection, he headed to his room. “I’ll shower first. Cersei will have my balls if we’re late.”

_Jaime met with Cersei shortly after he asked Brienne to marry him, trying to flounder out a truce over dinner and drinks. He was fairly certain Tywin had convinced his sister to come, pressing her to play nice. His father liked Brienne as a person, appreciating the happiness she brought to his life. That her family also had wealth was icing on the cake._

_As soon as the appetizers arrived Cersei started in, poking fun at his towering freak of a girlfriend.Jaime rose silently, gathering his coat. “Wait…Jaime wait. Where are you going?” She grabbed at his hands, he clutched his keys and pulled away._

_“This was a bad idea. I don’t_ need _your support, but I wanted it.” Cersei looked genuinely puzzled, as if his engagement were some elaborate ploy to get her attention. “I love her Cers…period. This is_ it _for me. I’m sorry you can’t see that.”_

_He turned to leave, she called to him. “Sit.”He kept walking, she chased after, catching his arm.“Seven hells Jaime, if you’re going to do this let me help. I plan a mean party.” Cersei would never apologize, but her look was a mix of embarrassment and regret, so he accepted it for what it was, sat back down. Halfway through she started taking notes on her phone, and when they parted Jaime was almost certain he had spawned a wedding planning monster._

_The package from the boutique Cersei favored arrived unexpectedly, and Brienne stood back and stared like she was trying to defuse a bomb with just her eyes. “Okay, here goes…” She dove in, untying the gold ribbon, peeking beneath the fancy paper. “…oh.” She fingered the material, and Jaime had trouble interpreting the expression on her face, a wistful look settling around her mouth as her lips finally curled in a satisfied smile. “It’s lovely.”She pulled out the card, read it aloud:_

**_“You should look the part—Cersei.”_ **

_Inside was a deep red dress, more burgundy than crimson, hemmed just below the knee with a modest slit and a low back.The material was beautiful, luxurious and soft, a hint of shimmer that would glisten in the afternoon light. Jaime knew from a glance it was made specifically for Brienne, and with her long frame and pale skin she would be breathtaking._ Never doubt Cersei’s taste. _He shook his head, once his sister decided to embrace something, she was a force of nature._

_Beneath more paper there were heels to match and, tucked in the bottom, another smaller box. Brienne opened it and a second card fluttered out, she gasped softly at the contents as he peeked over her shoulder. Earrings—sapphires—a rich, thick blue—circled with diamonds that sparkled beneath her fingers. He picked up the card._

**_“Jaime was right, blue is you color. Welcome to the family.—Cers.”_ **

_“They belonged to Joanna.” He whispered it against her neck, felt the tremble as she started to cry._

_“I can’t…” She snuffled._

_“Cersei wants you to have them. Don’t turn away a peace offering love..they don’t come often. Joanna would adore you, wear them and think of her.” She nodded, turned to bury her face in his shoulder._

_“I’m_ marrying _you.” Low and shaky, as if she feared saying it too loud._

_“I know…what_ were _you thinking?” He meant it, even if she laughed through her tears._

He still meant it, standing beside his soon-to-be wife, carrying their—hopefully—first of many children. It was too much to ask. “You nervous?” Jaime took her hand, kissed her knuckles.

“No.Hungry… _yes_ …sleepy… _yes_ …but not nervous.” Pregnant Brienne was always hungry, and always sleepy, and frequently horny.Jaime kept that observation to himself.He was very much looking forward to their wedding night, and feared she might cut him off just to prove a point. “When are you picking dad up?” Selwyn was staying at a nearby hotel, and it was his job to get Brienne’s father and the boutonnières to Tywin’s mansion in the suburbs of King’s Landing. Cersei would handle the rest.

“I should leave soon. I need to help with the placement of the arbor and chairs.” Brienne’s one request had been to exchange vows in the exact spot where they first kissed. Jaime was determined to get that detail right. As long as he was standing there with Brienne at the end of the day, the chaos could carry on around him. He leaned into his wife-to-be, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close with her thighs, a playful look twisting her lips. “Or I could just stay here…” He slid his arms around her shoulders, hovered close to her mouth. “It’s not too late to elope.”

“It most certainly is.” Tyrion answered, hair wet and dress shirt unbuttoned as he wandered toward the kitchen. “Tywin would stroke, and Cersei…” He shuddered for effect. “The hells hath no fury like a woman with her meticulously made wedding plans ruined.” He motioned between Jaime and Brienne. “And none of _that_ …you’re not supposed to see her, let alone… _this_.”

Jaime laughed, kissing her on the cheek. “See you later.” He felt his heart flutter at the thought, knew hers was doing the same.

“Later.” Her voice dropped, a promise.

Jaime walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “Hey Tyrion, are you bringing your amazon roommate to my wedding?”

His brother chuckled, a wet catch in his voice when he answered. “Yes…but don’t get your hopes up. She’s out of your league.”

“I know brother. I know…thank you.” He would spend the rest of his days thanking Tyrion for trusting him with Brienne’s love. He heard her happy sob as the door latched behind him.

**< ><><><><><>**

Brienne stood looking out the patio door, the one she stormed through last holiday, hoping to be swallowed by the pavers or magically transported back home. Anything to escape the Lannisters. She giggled to herself, and her father tightened his grip on her elbow.

“Share the joke?” He smiled down at her, the only person who could when she was in heels, and she leaned into his wide chest.

“Last time I was here I was looking for the exit, rather aggressively.” She grinned, her too big lips painted dark berry to match her dress, spreading wide around large teeth. For once she didn’t care, Jaime liked her lips.

“It’s not too late lightning bug. We could make a break for it.” She wondered again how such an intimidating man could look so gentle, she softened in reply.

“I quit trying to run after Jaime found me.” The memory still felt like a dream, golden and hazy. Sun sinking over water, leaves on the breeze.

“Smart man.” He kissed her forehead. She straightened his tie.

Tyrion stuck his head in the door, smiling broadly, the sun catching his curls. “Okay, I’m starting down the aisle…I know…queen of beauty and grace…don’t hate the player.” Brienne rolled her eyes. It seemed only fitting that her best friend act as man of honor, and he embraced the role with gusto, offering more than once to sport a gown if necessary. “Give me a two minute head start.” He sprung forward, grabbing her hand and kissing it. “You look beautiful legs. Lannister red suits you.” Pausing before he asked, “You good?"

She nodded, bent to kiss his hair. “Best day ever Tyrion.” He winked and hurried out the door, leaving her and Selwyn to follow. 

Brienne had every intention to walk slowly—elegantly—the way she practiced with Cersei. When she rounded the break in hedges, facing a straight shot to the pond, her legs abandoned that plan and picked up speed, a single goal of standing next to Jaime. Only her father, with his steady tug on her arm, a steady smile on his face, kept her from sprinting down the aisle. 

_Gods he is beautiful._

Jaime stood under an arbor of Weirwood leaves, the ripples behind him pink in the setting sun, light cutting through the leaves and casting his golden hair crimson.She stuttered to a halt a few feet in front of him and simply stared.

Her husband-to-be cocked his head to the side. Starting at her feet, his gaze drifted upward, savoring every fold of her dress, each curve of her body, before searching out her eyes. The look was wanton, like strong warm fingers, a blush blossoming where it touched. Brienne glowed, the red of her dress a match to the darkest leaves in the arbor, and as the sun dipped below the treetops she seemed lit from within, like embers. Jaime was transfixed.

He held out one hand. “ _I’ll catch you._ ” The words faint, she felt them in the stillness.

Brushing a kiss on her father’s cheek she let go, closing the distance to Jaime with two quick strides. Long fingers tangling, he drew her close, lips meeting in a caress.Jaime’s mouth parted softly beneath hers, and for a breath Brienne let her tongue fill the space, slide languorously against his.

Tyrion cleared his throat. “ _Vows?_ We are here for a wedding, yes?” Brienne took great pleasure in handing him her bouquet to hold.

Jaime grinned, never releasing her hand. “Ready wench?”

Brienne nodded. “I fell in love a year ago. You wrapped me in your jacket, cradled me in your arms, and I was _home_.” She could still feel the material on her skin, his scent lingered around her neck.

“I fell in love when you helped my brother into his chair, then defended my honor with a butter knife.” She laughed, open and loud, the sound bouncing around the garden like a song. “Be mine…?” Jaime’s eyes sparkled, liquid with longing.

“I was _always_ yours.” She turned toward Tyrion, his expressive face reflecting her adoration. “I just needed a friend to nudge me in the right direction.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many people to thank. Thank you to Ro for encouraging me to write in the first place and for your kind spirit. Thank you to Jamie for being my sounding board and honest reviewer, your friendship is so valued. Thank you to Madelyn for reading through this mess, for pointing out when it slid off course, and for being so supportive. Thank you to Meriwyn for reading at crazy times and giving me your truthful opinions. Thank you to Sari for talking with me about anything GOT and encouraging me not to drive myself crazy. "It's just fan fiction." I have met so many nice people through this experience, I am so blessed.
> 
> So this is it. My last WIP complete. I am so overwhelmed by the support from those of you who read and enjoyed this. I never expected anyone to really like this little fluff fest. I cherish every comment. If you like my writing, please consider reading The Seven Who Are One. It is very different from this story, but there is an abundance of Jaime and Brienne once it gets rolling. And if you have a super fun idea for another fiction that you want to share, by all means do. I may give in a go.


	11. Epilogue: Three Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How many days?” Jaime whined, pinning her to the entrance way table with his hips and eyes and the general Jaime-ness of his being, always irrepressible, always too much for Brienne to deny. After nearly three years together—of too many nights to count that began with kisses pressed behind elbows and ended with bodies intertwined so tightly that Brienne lost sense of her own boundaries, of what was her and what was him and where the two blended—he still overwhelmed her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this little scene as response to a prompt listing types of kisses, and I liked the final product enough to add it to the end as an epilogue. Mostly I enjoyed this world so much that I wanted to return to it for a minute. Hope you enjoy as well.

**< ><><><><><>**

“How many days?” Jaime whined, pinning her to the entrance way table with his hips and eyes and the general _Jaime-ness_ of his being, always irrepressible, always too much for Brienne to deny.After nearly three years together—of too many nights to count that began with kisses pressed behind elbows and ended with bodies intertwined so tightly that Brienne lost sense of her own boundaries, of what was her and what was him and where the two blended—he still overwhelmed her.

“Three days…Jaime it’s _only_ three days.”He whimpered, and it sounded like _“why”_ as she tangled long fingers in his hair, smoothed his unruly curls. “You know this is the price I pay for being on a research track. One poster presentation and one panel and I’m done, on a plane and back here as soon as possible.” She nodded over his shoulder, indicating the sound from the next room.“You have Tyrion for company, a-and Dayne loves the weekends with just Dad and Uncle Ty…it’s like a big sleepover.”

“It’s a Harry Potter weekend on Freeform!” Tyrion yelled from around the corner, and their two year old squealed with excitement at the happy tone of his Uncle’s voice.

“When is it not a Harry Potter weekend?” Brienne giggled back, then rolled her eyes. “It’s not like little man knows what they’re saying anyway.”

“Yes but he thinks Tyrion’s an elf…or a goblin?Hey Tyrion what are you?” Jaime called over Brienne’s shoulder.

“Goblin… _definitely_ goblin. Dude, elves don’t get the chicks.” Her friend’s voice was muffled, Brienne thought maybe Dayne was sitting on his head based on the mad cackling of her son and Tyrion’s muted laughter followed almost immediately by the distinct sound of raspberries being blown into the baby’s soft stomach.More cackles ensued.

“Tyrion and I have wands, we act out the fights…I mean not the scary parts.” Jaime bit his lip and squinted, as though that bit of information could have stayed between the three men in their odd little household. “Anyway, it makes Dayne laugh.”

“You make _me_ laugh.” Brienne tangled her big fists in his tee shirt, twisting and puling him in close. He smelled of fabric softener and their rumpled sheets, curry from last night’s dinner and their son’s bubble bath and she wanted to bury her face in it, to suck it into her pores and fill her lungs and carry him _—this—_ with her all weekend.

“Is that _all_ I do to you?” Jaime leaned forward, voice dropping a level so that only she could hear, a rough growl filled with dirty promises that went straight to her core.“It seems like you yell as much as laugh when I’m around.” Brienne’s thoughts went steamy, remembering how she’d woke this morning with his mouth on her breast and a gasp in her throat as slits of sunlight flickered across their discarded sheets. How he’d made her come before her mind was fully awake, and she’d found herself shaking and crying out his name as sensation crept slowly into her sleepy body. How she’d blushed and buried her face when she realized that there was no way Tyrion hadn’t heard her, even sleeping on a different floor.

“You’re incorrigible.” Jaime nibbled at her earlobe, trailed his open mouth down her jaw to hover a heartbeat away from her lips. Brienne felt his breath mingle with hers, inhaled a little more of him with each racing pant.

“I encourage you all the time.” Brienne rolled her eyes at the awful joke, gave a little puff that he seemed to lap up, savor. “I’m encouraging you to skip your conference as we speak.” He closed the tiny gap, pressed his full, firm lips to hers as she groaned in protest.

Brienne found him irresistible, always had, always would.Just the faintest flicker of his tongue along the seam of her mouth had her opening for him, tilting her head and silently begging him to dig deeper, scald her with his wet heat—with broken breaths that stole the air from her throat and the little gasps that he gulped from her chest. She was his, body and soul, and he staked his claim daily. Reminding her with brief touches when no one was looking, and deep swills of her adoration that bubbled up every time they were close: _You’re mine._

Jaime pressed closer, backing her into a wall, grinding his pelvis against hers as his hands slipped over the curve of her hips, digging into the thick muscle of her ass, molding them together. Brienne broke the kiss, gasping against his neck as he inserted a leg between hers, holding her in place.

“Don’t forget me.” He mouthed it against her ear, and she almost chuckled. With a tight grip on her backside and his arousal digging into her thigh, sudden onset amnesia seemed unlikely.

“Not a chance Lannister.” Brienne ran a pacifying hand up and down his back, wrapped a sturdy arm around his waist and held him close.For all his swagger her lion was territorial, needed reassurance and soothing to tend his hesitant heart. “I love you.”

His head fell forward to rest against hers, face split wide in a glorious grin. As if _that_ was all he ever needed to hear, as if _that_ made everything better, everything right. “I love you too wife.” Jaime wiggled a hand between them, placed it over her flat abdomen. “Keep our babes safe.”

They hadn’t shared the news of the twins, even with Tyrion or Dayne.Brienne told herself she was waiting long enough to make sure the pregnancy would stick, but in truth she was secreting it away. Just for Jaime, just for her, for a little while.

Jaime leaned forward once more, kissed the shell of her ear. “Call me from your hotel room. I expect you to be naked…horizontal…wet…” He peppered her neck with soft brushes of lips on skin, punctuating each word. Brienne choked on her laugh, knew the sound was filthy and that Tyrion would text her shit about it later.

“We already have one of three covered, thanks to my very sexy husband.” They both laughed this time, and she could hear Tyrion’s exasperated sigh from the next room.

“For fuck’s sake, get out the door or get a room.O-oh…sorry Dayne.” The yell from her good-brother carried more mirth than annoyance, and in her mind she saw Tyrion covering her child’s ears a second too late.

“Love you too Tyrion.” She called it over her shoulder as Jaime walked her the few steps to the door. “Three days…” Brienne brushed tapered fingers over Jaime’s wisp of stubble, stared into his jade eyes.

“Three days too long.” He kissed her knuckles as she released him, softly shutting the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love hearing your thoughts, leave me a comment please. Also, if you like my writing style, check out my WIP on AO3 titled. **“Surfacing”**. It’s a little more angsty but with a similar Jaime/Brienne chemistry as this one, and plenty of fluff as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments or kudos, they make my day. Will update as my own holiday shenanigans allow.


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